Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed
by Mei1105
Summary: There are no days off for a Shadowchaser - even on vacation. Becky Abbott returns to South Africa to celebrate her aunt's wedding, only to find the Cape Town team struggling to cope with a series of magical kidnappings. Juggling keeping her family safe and keeping them from the truth, Becky is about learn the hard reality of life behind the Veil. Part of the Shadowchasers series.
1. Proposal

**A/N:** Soooo I didn't really want to post this. It's not finished, and I really don't know where I'm going with this. But 7th Librarian insisted, and now that he lives with me he's harder to run away from.

Another contribution to this rather enjoyable little subfandom. If you're still unfamiliar with Shadowchasers, hit up Occam Razor's page to learn more.

Following the trait of my last Shadowchasers fic, this is a very duelling-lite story. Sorry. They will be around, just not very often.

This takes place two and a half years after Sweet Sixteen.

* * *

 **Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 1: Proposal**

A crime scene was like a wounded animal, in Bastien's opinion. You approached it carefully, watching for any changes in normal behaviour, and you did your best not to disturb the fragile state in which everything currently sat.

The petrol station was empty, the rickety metal shelving units stacked with boxes and packing crates, like ominous bars, caging the scene from the outside world. The linoleum was faded, peeling from the corners of the floor like old skin, and the ceiling had a few old stains here and there. Aside from an exploded carton of milk on the floor in front of the tills, nothing seemed amiss. The drivers, and spooked locals of Khayelitsha huddled outside, peering in through the windows, and over the shoulders of the policemen. Some snapped photos on camera phones, while others muttered anxiously, some fingering crosses or other personal talismans for protection against evil spirits.

A shiver went up Bastien's spine. They could be more right than they knew.

Trying to shake off the sudden unpleasant sensation, he got back to his feet. He felt the suspicious glare of the police on his back, but he did not begrudge them that. If he had a strange young man in jeans and a t-shirt showing up at a crime scenes claiming to be a secretive type of special forces, he would probably be hostile too. He acted as though he could not feel it, and tried to think rationally about what he knew.

The eyewitnesses said that the father and his two teenage sons had been paying at the counter, when in the blink of an eye, all three of them had vanished. No flashes of light, and no sound other than the milk carton falling to the ground, and bursting all over the cheap linoleum. But something did not sit well with him here. People did not just vanish into thin air, even Shadowkind. And just as he knew that you never gambled with dwarves, or asked a lycanthrope when their time of the month was, he knew that things like this always left traces.

A pointed cough jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Are you done here?" Detective Nkhosi was tapping his foot, but Bastien was used to this general air of resentment.

"Why, do you have a date?" the Shadowchaser asked pleasantly. He should know better than to irritate the man, but it was too easy sometimes. Sure enough, the detective's eye twitched.

"No," he said, with forced politeness. "But unless you can show me evidence of a ghost or gremilin, I am going to have to ask you to vacate my crime scene, Bastien."

It felt like being lectured by a parent - not helped by the fact that Nkhosi was seventeen years his senior. Not for the first time, he wished that this could have been a normal case - or at least, one so magical that the police would have brushed it off as a superstitious waste of time. But this was only the latest in a string of unexplained and very public disappearances, and Nkhosi and his team were now firmly involved, meaning that Bastien had no choice but to work around them.

As a Shadowchaser, Bastien was trained to sense when things were not quite right. Awareness not only brought clarity when faced with magical creatures, but gave him a strange tingling feeling when magic was in the air. He could sense that now, lingering like a bad smell, even though on the surface, nothing in the petrol station seemed out of the ordinary.

And speaking of bad smells, Bastien got to his feet, and cast his gaze around the room. The milk was already turning sour in the heat, but beneath that there was another scent - lighter with a saltier tang - that did not belong in a petrol station in the middle of one of Cape Town's poorest neighbourhoods.

Weaving between the shelving units, his eyes drifted along the supplies of bread and rice, until he reached the back corner, where the smell lingered most potently. His boots squeaked on the linoleum, and he paused by the cereal bars, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.

Behind him, Nkhosi halted, a similar reaction crossing his face.

"That's new," the detective commented. Bastien nodded, not quite sure what to make of his discovery.

Pulling his phone out, he crouched down again to examine the large puddle of water spread out before him. It smelt like decaying seaweed, and he was ninety percent certain that if he stuck his finger in it, he would taste saltwater. He was not stupid however, and instead he snapped a few photographs on his phone, trying hard to see some kind of pattern in the location or the distribution of the water, before reaching for his bag. Carefully, he took a glass vial, and gently scooped a small amount of water into the container before screwing it shut.

Behind him, Detective Nkhosi tilted his head back, examining the loosely fit ceiling tiles.

"Think they've got a leak?" he asked, dubiously. Bastien knew perfectly well that Nkhosi was not the kind of detective who believed in coincidences.

"That would be nice. Then we could all go home," he said, deciding that there was nothing more to be garnered here. Shouldering his bag once more, he got to his feet, brushing his jeans off. The linoleum floors needed a good vacuum...or a mop, in this case. "I'm done here, detective. Go nuts."

He slid past the policeman and back towards the tills, already turning over ideas and thoughts about the new discovery. The detective followed swiftly behind, and as they approached the door, he waved his team in to begin collecting their own evidence. The wounded creature was down, and now the careful dissection of its carcass would begin.

Ignoring the disdain that the police were giving him, Bastien pushed his way through the open doors. The nervous crowd backed away, as though worried that they might catch death from brushing up against him. The only person who did not back away was the station manager, who began loudly complaining again about how many valuable trading hours he was losing. His mind, unmagical and entirely Mundane as it was, had already found some way to rationalise three people vanishing right in front of him, and now he just wanted his shop back.

The sun swept down over Bastien's neck, and sweat prickled unpleasantly beneath his hair. It was almost lunchtime, but he felt no inclination to eat. Instead he crossed the forecourt, bypassing the petrol pumps, and headed for his bike. He would report everything he had seen, and go over it with his teammates later, but deep down he already knew that they would be just as lost as they had been after the last one.

His phone buzzed, and he leaned into his D-Wheel to answer. Nobody was nearby - the police were occupied indoors, and the civilians had no interest in leaving their front row seats.

"Thando, any good news?" he answered, hope stirring in spite of his doubts. His colleague gave a heavy sigh.

"Only what you asked me for," he said. Even his usual upbeat attitude seemed dulled in the face of another disappearance. "Osenus Grafyr was the father - elf, according to our notes. His sons were Pannan and Riovar - both half elves. Seventy nine and sixty three respectively."

Teenagers, by elf standards, Bastien thought bitterly. And still, no patterns in age, race or any other characteristic had shown itself. The strikes were random, and completely incomprehensible. One new, disturbing fact was clear however, and it widened their net of potential victims considerably. "Whatever this is, it affects Shadow-touched too then?"

"It seems so," Thando reported, grimly. "The mother is still alive - she lives in Tokai. I'm enroute already."

Immense gratitude welled up in Bastien. Thando was always better at delivering bad news, a job which Bastien hated - not because he was unsympathetic, but because he knew all too well how it felt to be on the other side.

"Did you turn anything up?"

Jolting out of his sudden melancholy, Bastien felt for the glass vial in his bag. "Actually yes. There was a puddle at the back of the store."

"A puddle?" Thando sounded dubious. "Of what?"

"Looks like regular water," Bastien admitted. "But it was the only strange thing I could find. I took a sample - I'll drop it into Serena on my way back."

It sounded like a flimsy lead, and he leaned heavily against the handles of his bike. Maybe it was time to admit that they were beat. At least then, they could start asking for help.

"Group conference," he said. "As soon as we all can. I don't know about you Than, but I have no ideas at all."

It was not a pleasant thing to admit. It made him feel powerless. Thando sighed heavily.

"I hear you," he assured him. "Group conference it is then. I'll text the others."

"Jalal too, if he can spare five minutes," Bastien insisted. Though if their boss had no ideas, they were well and truly fucked. Glancing over towards the door, he spotted the tall, lithe figure of the detective. "Uh oh. Nkhosi has that look on his face."

Thando snorted. "Don't rile him up too much - his fiance might change her mind if we prematurely grey his hair."

Bastien had to chuckle at that, and he hung up with a small smile at the detective's expense. The man in question, did not look amused as he approached the Shadowchaser. His close-cropped hair was still dark, in spite of Thando's misgivings.

"So what will it be this time?" his voice was scornful. "A water spirit popped in, took offence to three people purchasing petrol, and decided to whisk them away as punishment?"

Bastien rolled his eyes as his slid his helmet on. "Don't be daft, detective. You forgot the hordes of zombies."

He turned the key in his bike, only for a large hand to clasp the front of the machine.

"I'm not in the mood for games, Bastien," Nkhosi's voice had turned dark and serious. "This is the ninth disappearance in the last month, and I'm tired of feeling like I'm in the middle of a conspiracy."

It took every ounce of Bastien's self restraint not to retort rudely, for Nkhosi's calculations were off drastically. There had in fact been eighteen disappearances now, but the Shadowkind communities were tight and secretive, and would never involve the police. The nine that they were aware of had all occurred in public places like this one, and avoiding the officials had been impossible.

Instead, he settled for dropping the sarcasm. "You are in the middle of a conspiracy, detective. These crimes involve magic."

The detective scoffed. "If I wanted people running around my crime scene declaring magical causes, I'd call in the SAPS Occult Unit. But I don't. I want to get to the bottom of this, and find these missing people. So why don't you save me, and them a lot of time, and tell me what you're really doing here?"

"Investigating," Bastien said curtly, revving his engine in the hopes that Nkhosi would take the hint. The detective did not budge.

"And what do you have to show for your investigations? And don't say _water_ _spirits_ or _zombies_." He sneered the words in blatant disbelief. "Anything helpful that you would care to share with the professionals? Because right now, I feel like I'm working with a blindfold over one side of my face."

Impatient now, Bastien turned his upper body towards the detective, and folded his arms. "What was it your commissioner said to you about us? Give us as much time as we need on your crime scene? Listen to what we say? Don't ask questions?"

"...and try not to punch you," Nkhosi grumbled, in an unamused fashion.

"Right," Bastien nodded. "So maybe you should take his advice - I'm sure he'd be fascinated to hear that you're ignoring his third order by digging around for information about us."

"Was that a threat?" the detective's voice became harder than diamond.

"No, it was advice," Bastien corrected. "You've been good so far at playing along and letting us do our job. Don't ruin it now."

The detective made a disgusted noise, and finally took the necessary step back to allow Bastien to leave. "I'm being lectured to about trust by you. You must have some really good blackmail on Kloeter…"

He strode away fuming, and Bastien did pity him. It would be so much easier if Nkhosi took bribes like the majority of South Africa's police. But he was too moral for that, and the idea that the Shadowchasers had some kind of hold over his boss only embittered him towards them more. It was not the case of course - as with many countries in the world where Shadowchasers worked, Kloeter was Sensitive. They had no need to bribe or blackmail him.

Nkhosi was going to need watching, Bastien thought. He had a reputation for always getting to the bottom of a mystery, and he already had nothing but disdain for this pushy group of youngsters who investigated supernatural activity, but were not part of the South African Police Service Occult Related Crimes Unit. Vigilantism was something he would not tolerate, and while Kloeter could issue all the orders he wanted, it would be up to the detective if they actually continued to get into crime scenes.

"You are working blind in one eye, detective…" he muttered, as he pulled his bike out of the forecourt, and onto Spine Road. "It's just not the eye you're thinking of…"

OOO

"Look at you. Seems like only yesterday you were nervously getting off the plane, and now…" With a clink of glass against table, the green-haired woman gave a tearful sniff. "All grown up. I'm so proud!"

"...does she do this every time a rookie graduates?"

"Pretty much." Across the booth, Rave tossed her platinum and gold hair out of her face and sipped at her drink, no doubt recalling her own celebration a few years ago.

"Then she starts lamenting how old she's getting," Tsubasa added, cowering immediately under the glare from the opposite side of the table.

"Don't be rude to your mother, young man." Even now with her son long grown, Terpsichore Springweather had never lost the tone of voice that all mother's possessed - the one that made you feel about three inches tall. Sure enough, Tsubasa muttered an apology and went back to his drink with a sulk.

"When's your mentor getting here, Becks?" Rave asked, passing around a fresh bottle. The youngest member of the group checked her wrist.

"In an hour or so - she's got some things to finish up at the office."

"Great - then it'll be a proper send off party where the mentor gets one last chance to embarrass her student!" Terpischore said, happily.

"Really? Because you never seem to need a party to embarrass me," Rave pointed out. "Or Tsubasa."

"Preach!" the lone male at the table toasted with his half drunk bottle.

"And what kind of party is it where the graduating student isn't allowed to drink?" Becky asked, staring at her bottled fruit juice as though hoping she could make it alcoholic with the power of her gaze. "Bloody puritanical US laws…"

"You know the rules - Fayte and Tsuki don't make an exception for Dracula, so why would they make an exception for you?" Terpischore asked, beeping the young woman on the nose.

"Because back in England I've been allowed to buy my own booze for over a year now," Becky stated.

"You'll be back in good old Blighty soon enough," Rave reminded her, patting her on the head. "For now, drink your juice and we might let you have dessert."

She did not bat an eyelash as Becky stuck her tongue out. After a year it was hard to take the jabs to heart.

"So what did you do when you graduated, Terpy?" Becky asked, feeling she should get all the sane conversation out of the way, before the evening descended into drunken babble.

"Oh that's a great story!" the elf practically bounced out of her seat.

"Are you naked in this story?" Tsubasa asked, cautiously. "Because I don't want to hear it if you're going to wind up naked. You're my mother. It's weird."

"No!" Terpischore exclaimed, apparently offended. "Not all my stories end in nudity, you know!"

"Yes they do," Tsubasa and Rave retorted in unison. The senior Shadowchaser gave them such a dignified glare that Becky swore she could see a crown appearing on her head.

"Anyway," Terpy shot the two a final look, before continuing. "Rayearth and I are on our way back from chasing a pair of werewolves to Omaha, and we stop in a bar-"

"Speaking of Omaha," Rave ignored the story, and turned to Becky, lowering her voice as the tale continued over the din of club music. "Who's dropping you at the airport tomorrow?"

"Tsuki," Becky said, swirling her drink around her glass. "God I miss my bike…"

Her hand twitched for a handle that was not there.

"Oh good," Rave grinned. "So I can get totally wasted and not worry about driving tomorrow!"

"-before we know what's happening, three zombies come bursting in to the bar-"

"Remind me why you decided to send your bike to South Africa when you're only going to be there for a week?"

"Ten days!" Becky corrected. "And it's to save space in the hire car. Do you know how big my family is? And I'm pretty sure at some point I'm going to want to escape into the city just to get away from the questions about what I'm doing with my life."

"-so I turn around, and Rayearth is naked."

"Oh God! What did I _just_ say?!" Tsubasa shrieked, rubbing his forehead into the table in an effort to purge the images. Terpy blinked innocently.

"You said I couldn't be naked. You never said anything about Rayearth!"

"Never wanted to picture the bloodthirsty Incantifer naked, and now I am, and I can't un-picture it!" Tsubasa hastily took refuge in his bottle, downing the blue sugary vodka in an instant, and getting straight up from the table to buy another one.

Seeing the satisfied smirk crossing Terpy's face, Becky leaned over. "I see what you're doing, and it ain't going to work."

The green-haired woman directed her wide gaze to the ceiling and began to whistle. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh please! You're hoping Rave and your son will get drunk enough to sleep together. I'm telling you, they don't think about each other that way."

"I don't think about what now?" Rave finished laughing at her teammate's expense and refocused on the conversation.

"Nothing!" Terpischore and Becky chimed in unison, knocking back their drinks with deliberate evasiveness.

Becky frowned as someone's phone began to vibrate against the table. All eyes were drawn to the large, battered smart phone, with pink My Little Pony stickers stuck to the back. Huffing, Terpischore reached for it.

"Typical. My best laid plans are ruined by work!" Swiping the screen, she raised it to her ear. "Foxy Lady, something had better be on fire!"

There was a long silence as Terpischore listened intently to what was being told to her and her face slowly lost all of its playfulness. Across from her, the three Shadowchasers her felt themselves growing remarkably sober.

"We'll be there," Terpischore finished, hanging up and rising from the table. "We're going. Someone's just broke into the Shadowchaser crypt down in the graveyard. They got through the wards by means unknown and Maria's picked up the scent of necromancy."

"So much for Becky's graduation party," Rave groused, getting up and pushing her chair back swiftly. "Why can't they choose a night when we don't have something to celebrate?"

"They do," Becky commented dryly. "Every day. That's what you sign up for when you live in this town."

"Aren't you pleased you're leaving?" Tsubasa asked, casting one last longing look at his just-opened bottles, now being abandoned on their table.

"I'm detecting some sarcasm, Tsubasa. I'm not sure I like it."

OOO

The Shadowcasers crypt was one of the most depressing places Becky had ever visited.

In the vast field of stones that lined the Backwater cemetery, the crypt sat towards the back looming ominously over the other graves. Constructed of white marble and black iron, it served as a dedicated resting space for those special individuals who had dedicated their lives to protecting the town. Their names were etched above the tiny entrance into the stone, making certain that their deeds would never be forgotten.

It chilled Becky to think how many people were waiting down there for other protectors to join them.

Fortunately, she reasoned as they weaved through the gravestones scattered through the grassy field, they would probably not have to go and say hello tonight, for Maria's message had been slightly exaggerated. While it was true that the heavy, reinforced marble doors had been blow to bits, leaving dust and debris all over the steps, the intruder had not actually managed to get any further, due to a nasty looking spell that now warded the entrance in a rippling red barrier. Each time the intruder attempted to gain access, he was violently flung back into the steps with a loud, vicious sounding crack. Rather than become suitably dazed however, he got straight back up, and began tossing more magic at it like a string of tennis balls.

Terpy was there first, skidding to a halt twenty feet from the crypt entrance, releasing her sword and pulling her arm back over her head. Holding her weapon like a javelin, she hurled it through the air and watched it pierce the intruder's back and skewer him straight through. He staggered forwards into the broken rubble.

"Did I get him?" Terpy held out her hand and the sword slid out of the body with a wet squelch and flew obediently back to her hand. The senior Shadowchaser beamed.

"Yay! I got him!" she cheered, bouncing from foot to foot. Pulling to a stop next to Becky, Tsubasa groaned.

"Must you do that every time?" he asked. "Give the rest of us a chance!"

A crackle came over their earpieces.

"Aww...does this mean I don't get to shoot him? I've been sitting on the church roof for ages waiting for backup and I'm pretty sure there's a bird nesting in my hat now!"

"Sorry Foxy Lady!" Terpy did not break her victory dance for a moment.

"No you're not!"

Becky's well executed facepalm was aborted as her whole body jerked with the ground beneath her feet. There was a hideous cracking noise below and gravestones began to split and crumble menacingly.

"You have got to be-" Tsubasa's exasperation was cut off as a rotten arm punched through the ground at his feet and seized his ankle in a bony grip. He had just enough time to shriek in terror, before a pair of blades flashed, and Rave severed the limb with a sweep of her twin swords of Tryce. With a lumbering moan, the rest of the corpse emerged from the earth in search of its missing hand. A fresh shudder worked its way down Becky's spine as she saw the ground erupting and more figures slowly pulling themselves free.

"Right. Necromancy. Got it."

"Maria, are you seeing this?" Terpy demanded, tossing her sword at another overly friendly member of the undead. It skewered him between the eyes, and he gave only the slightest recoil before continuing his lumbering shamble.

"Seeing. Still working on believing," the kyubi admitted, and a crack split across the graveyard as she began to fire at the ring of zombies now shambling towards her colleagues. "Terpy the crypt!"

The intruder was standing, apparently unfazed by the hole through his back, and turning slowly to observe the quartet of attackers. A cold empty gaze evaluated all of them, and Becky felt another shiver run over her body.

"Huh…" Terpy's eyebrow quirked. "I didn't try hard enough."

She snapped her hand out, and her sword obediently wriggled free of the approaching zombie, before jumping back her hand. "You guys take care of the rabble. I want the big guy!"

"...I should _not_ be getting innuendo from that statement!" Tsubasa whined, taking his frustration out on a nearby zombie, punching it so hard in the face that three of its rotten teeth flew out. "Especially not from my mother!"

"Stop talking and fight!" Rave shouted, already charging into the ring of zombies and slicing one to ribbons with her swords. Becky followed up, beheading the nearest, and swinging herself around into another strike that pierced a female zombie in the throat. She was pleased that she felt little squeamishness now when she pulled the blade free. Another crack of gunfire took out a third one sneaking up behind her.

"Eight more on your six," Maria warned, huffing as she adjusted her aim for another shot. "Rave, watch the-"

There was a slicing noise, as Rave twisted so that her twin swords skewered two zombies at once. "What was that?"

"Nothing dear," Maria muttered. There was a yelp of pain, and a blur of green and blue as Terpy went skidding through the mud, crashing headfirst into an angel obelisk. Outside the crypt, the intruder flexed his arm, which had turned into a mass of writhing tentacles, cold eyes observing all four Shadowchasers before returning to the barrier over the entrance.

"Oh no…" Becky muttered, knowing that physical characteristic all too well. She'd read the file and heard stories from Judy.

"Oh God! Tentacles! Why does my brain keep doing this to me!"

"Tsubasa, there's a zombie chewing on your hair!"

"Somebody get the wrong out of my brain!"

Slicing another zombie through the middle, Becky resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _Just four days and then I'm on holiday. Nothing bad happens th-WHOA!_

Her last thought was audible as she misstepped and fell face first into the nearest evacuated grave.

"Have a nice trip, Becky?" came the helpful voice in her ear.

"Shut up Maria…"

OOO

"It's getting stronger."

Bastien jumped, pulling his gaze away from his thousand yard stare into the blue carpet. The sofa was comfortable after a long day of driving all over Cape Town, and he knew it had been a mistake to sit on it - he was five minutes from falling asleep in the middle of their conference. The crime scene that morning felt like a very long time ago. "Excuse me?"

Leaning over the back of a nearby armchair, Thando rolled his eyes - he had been sure that Bastien had not been listening. "I said, it's getting stronger. First individuals. Then couples. Now a group of three. Next it'll be a family of four, and then a group of five co workers-"

"We won't let it get that far," Bastien said firmly. "Too many people have gone missing already."

He glanced at the large map of Cape Town, which dominated the far wall of the living room, red pins protruding all over it. They could have used a holographic version, but Thando had told Bastien that he prefered the feeling of a physical map - there was something grounding about pushing pins into paper that you just did not get from hitting a few buttons.

Right now though, the pins gave Bastien no satisfaction. They were just a grim reminder of every Shadow who had vanished in the last month, under similar circumstances to the ones in the petrol station that day. And that was just the reported ones. Who knew how many others had vanished, unseen or uncared by anyone?

"Any magical traces?" over by the fire, Jalal's holographic form wore a look of deep concern. He shared the projector with the other two South African Shadowchasers. To his left, Dani Nkanyezi was occupied brushing mud off his boots, while on his right, Astra De Witt drummed her fingers against her arm. Unbeknownst to her, her hologram was intruding on the television, giving her the unsettling impression that her leg had been cut off.

Trying to pull himself away from the siren of sleep, Bastien shook his head at the half dragon's question.

"Nothing that I could sense, boss. I'd need an Incantifer to know for sure."

"Vuyo?" Jalal asked, turning his head to his left. Dani ceased scraping the wire brush over his shoes to shake his head.

"I haven't seen her for weeks, Jalal. I think she's in Zimbabwe. And there's no guarantee she'd come anyway - she hates the city."

"Bet she'd come if Thando asked her," Astra smirked in a dirty fashion and the young Xhosa man suddenly became very interested in making sure all the pins in the map were the right way up. In spite of his anxiety, Bastien allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch. In the middle of the fireplace, Jalal seemed to be mentally counting to ten, and Bastien did not blame him. Astra did a phenomenal job policing Durban and the surrounding provinces by herself, but her mind permanently swam in the gutter. Dani operated out of Johannesburg, and usually had the most contact with the nature loving Incantifer, who had made her home in Kruger National Park.

"Try and get in touch with her as a matter of urgency," Jalal asked. "I'd rather have someone who knows the area, but if you haven't heard from her by the end of the week, I'll send somebody. We don't have time to waste."

"Do you have any thoughts, Jalal?" Bastien asked, hope springing to life at the insistence in their leader's voice.

"Several," Jalal admitted. "But without more information to work on, I can't be certain."

Unbidden, Bastien remembered detective Nkhosi's description of being blindfolded over one eye. He wondered how the man would react if he knew that the Shadowchasers were groping in darkness too.

"We're quiet over in the east right now," Astra admitted, her voice holding no hint of the teasing it had moments ago. She kicked her leg back and forth a few times, completely unaware as it vanished and reappeared into the plasma screen. "Do you guys want me to come down and help?"

It would be useful to have another pair of eyes, but before Bastien could reply, Dani interrupted.

"Actually Astra, I was hoping you'd be able to cover the mines for the next week or two," he sounded very apologetic. "I've had so many border crossings it's not even funny."

That explained the mud on his boots, Bastien thought. Border crossings usually meant poachers, who sadly, were just as common among Shadowkind as they were among the Mundane. Vuyo wasn't going to like that when she came back.

"Sure," Astra was all too keen to agree. "I can take them off your hands. The dwarves like me."

"That's because they don't have to look up to talk to you."

"Screw you, Thando."

"Let me know if you need any backup, and I can arrange something," Jalal interrupted the good natured squabbling. "Hopefully it won't come to that, and Vuyo will be able to shed enough light on the situation for us to take action."

A loud buzz sounded through the living room, causing everyone's heads to turn to the hallway.

"Curry's here," Thando announced happily.

"I've got it," Bastien said, getting to his feet, his spine cracking like a whip as he straightened. Stifling another yawn, he headed for the kitchen to retrieve his wallet.

It was only as he headed back to the living room, with a paper bag full of warm food, that he realised that the call had not ended yet.

"-still got his full twenty five days of annual leave, according to our records," on the surface, Jalal's tone was one of polite enquiry, but the worry was just discernible beneath it. Freezing behind the door, Bastien listened closely.

"He says he'd have nothing to do." Thando's normally upbeat tone had also dipped with worry. "And all of my suggestions get shrugged off too."

Understanding dawned, and Bastien felt something heavy settle in his stomach. The smell of the curry met him again, but he suddenly found that he had no appetite for it.

"Jalal, you're acting like this is something new," Astra said pointedly, and Bastien could picture her folding her arms at their boss. "This is what he did last year. The only reason he used any of his holiday was to go to his sister's wedding. Working is just how he copes."

"I'm no expert," Dani's voice was low and uncertain, and the scratching of wire on boot had vanished. "But it's been three years. Shouldn't he have moved beyond just 'coping'."

"People mourn in very different ways, Dani," Jalal said, sadly. "He might never be over it. But even if that is the case, he shouldn't be allowed to let work consume him. Keep doing what you can, Thando. A good friend can make all the difference sometimes."

"Wise words, boss," Thando nodded, before muttering something in his native tongue. Bastien's Xhosa was very basic, but he understood that his friend was complaining about his stubbornness. He made a point of moving the paper bag from one arm to the other, loudly rustling the paper, before re-entering the room. Thando noticeably perked up at the presence of food, and as the holograms said their goodbyes and vanished from the room, taking the serious tone of the night with them.

It was almost possible, Bastien thought, picking over his chicken, to pretend that nothing was wrong at all.

Almost.

OOO

"You ever think it's time to retire?" Fayte asked the top of the pink towel, pointedly. It was immediately yanked off, and Terpischore's aghast face appeared through her damp, dreadlocking green hair.

"Are you kidding? Tonight was awesome!" the Springweather matriarch fistpumped the air, and Fayte ducked the incoming damp towel. "Zombie invasion, stabbing things, creepy doctor with tentacle arms, stabbing more things…"

"Almost getting your own arm pulled out," Rayearth finished dryly, pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee.

"That was all part of my cunning plan!"

Down the corridor a loud groan filled the air, before trailing off with a frustrated whine. A shirt sailed through the air and landed in a deflated heap in the corridor.

"Are we sure all the body parts are back in the correct graves?" Rave asked.

"Everything, aside from that stray finger that Becky found in her hair on the way home," the resident Incantifer assured her.

"I still don't want to know how you can identify bodies when the occupants have been dead for decades," Terpy admitted with a shudder, before frowning. "Where's my son?"

"In the shower," Rave muttered. "I think he's still trying to scrub the wrong out of his brain."

The green-haired Shadowchaser huffed. "So much for hooking you two up after a few drinks tonight…"

"What was that, Terpy?"

"Nothing dear."

A fresh yell of defeat echoed down the corridor, along with a flying bra.

"I can't take it anymore!" Becky's voice was shrill. "Tsuki, I need you right now!"

A door swung open a little further away as the succubus answered the call.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Terpy and Rave exchanged looks of alarm, before their eyes darted over to Fayte. The vampire casually continued to read the news as though nothing were amiss. The sound of a loud straining zip ripped through the corridor.

"...if you're plans this morning don't involve sleeping, Terpischore-" Rayearth interjected curtly.

"Not at all!" Terpy jolted out of her eavesdropping to nod at her boss. "Sleep is for losers!"

"-then there was a call from Primwell about an hour ago. I thought perhaps you might like to take it."

"Sweet! Day out with Daddy!" Terpy inhaled the rest of her breakfast so fast that any normal person would have choked, before banging her fork down on the plate. "Just let me wash up and I'll get my boots!"

"Is it in?" came the frustrated British accent from two doors away.

"Yup, just about!"

"Good!"

With a scrape of her chair, Rave abandoned her breakfast to press her ear against the wall. With maple syrup still lingering at the corner of her mouth, Terpy paused on her way out to join her. The two voices strained and grunted together.

"It's not working!"

"Hang on. Maybe if I sit and bounce on it…"

The creaking of a bedframe began in earnest. Once more the two eavesdropping Shadowchasers turned to stare at their vampire comrade, who continued to read her paper with little care. Rayearth sipped her coffee, completely unbothered by the groaning coming from the bedroom.

With a final thunderous thump, the creaking stopped. Two sets of exhausted panting floated down the corridor, followed by the loud yank of a zip with a triumphant cry.

"Phew! Thanks Tsuki. You are _amazing_." Becky sounded remarkably out of breath.

"Yeah I know. Now come on. We need to leave at ten, and you haven't had breakfast yet."

The door creaked open, and Rave and Terpy nearly fell over themselves in their haste to retreat from the wall. There was just enough time for Rave to start playing Fruit Ninja, and for Terpy to dive into the sink, before the kitchen door opened, and Becky and Tsuki appeared, dragging two carry-on bags and a very large, fully stuffed suitcase.

"Oooh…" Rave breathed gently in realisation. With a heavy sigh, Fayte rolled up her newspaper and smacked her over the head with it. A little confused by the interaction, Becky's eyes flicked between them.

"Huh?" she asked, scratching sleep out of her eyes. Rayearth cleared her throat.

"They're going to miss you," she filled in. The British girl's eyes lit up.

"Aww! I'm going to miss you guys too!" She threw her arms around an unprotesting Terpy, who planted a handful of bubbles in her face.

"Did you pack everything?" Fayte asked, as Tsuki slid into the seat next to her for a good morning peck on the lips.

"Probably not," came the shrug, as Becky grabbed Terpy's abandoned pink towel to dry off her face. "You always forget something. You can post it to me in London...oh! Actually, I couldn't find my hair straighteners."

Terpy froze in the act of draining the sink. "Oh...really?"

"...yeah," Becky said slowly and suspiciously. "I had them on Monday and I haven't seen them since. Why?"

"No reason," Terpy said a little too innocently, seizing her towel and turning on her heel. "'Scuse me please. I have...horsies…"

And she darted off, in a whirl of green and blue.


	2. Engagement

**Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 2: Engagement**

 _Three...two...one…_

Becky's mental countdown ended as the small child, running through the baggage reclaim like someone had stuck a rocket up the leg of his trousers, shot straight out in front of a businessman and collided with his legs. He fell to the floor, and immediately started wailing at the injustice of it all. The startled man spilt hot coffee down his shirt and began to swear at the top of his lungs, first at the child, and then at the stressed mother.

Travelling really did bring out the worst in people.

The familiar purple case trundled past her on the lazy carousel, and she seized it before it could wander off. Another yawn crept up her throat, and her jaw cracked loudly in response. She had napped on both legs of her sixteen hour journey today, but the bottom line was that she had had too many late nights this week, and been on far too many planes in the last four days. Her body clock was shot.

 _Food first._ She reminded herself, having bypassed all the in flight meals on both flights today. _Then shower. Then sleep._

But first, she needed something way more important.

Heading through the small duty free area, designed to tempt you one last time before you escaped the airport's clutches forever, she found the automatic doors leading to arrivals. She was blasted with cool air conditioning as soon as she went through, and she almost crooned in relief. Beyond the barrier, families and taxi drivers waited patiently for their passengers. One of them was weaving his way through the crowd towards her, and she felt a surge of relief that she recognised him, even though she had only seen him twice on Skype calls.

"Bastien!"

The six foot Shadowchaser broke through the last line of arrivals, and gave her a bracing hug, which effectively knocked the rest of her sluggishness away.

"Look who they let out of America!" he teased. "You made it in one piece then?"

"Just about," she admitted pulling a face. "Though in Dubai, I did sit down where there wasn't a chair…"

She let him have a laugh at her expense. It probably had been funny to everyone else around her. "Well as long as you hang on for the journey to Bantry. What you do after that is completely up to you."

"Thanks for looking after my bike," allowing him to do the gentlemanly thing and take her suitcase, Becky fell into step next to him as they weaved their way around hovering taxi drivers towards the exit. "And for coming to get me. I know you guys are probably busy."

She got a dismissive wave of his hand in response. "I spent most of today driving up and down the N2, arresting orcs. This is a much needed breather." He assured her, gently stopping her as a pair of small children ran out right in front of them. After so many hours of dodging her way through terminals and down aeroplanes, it was nice to have some human contact that did not involve elbows and stepping on people's toes.

"Wow. What did you get them for?"

"Lots of things," her colleague replied wryly. "They were running duellists off the road, then beating them up and stealing their belongings." He gave her a look. "I think I got them all, but take care if you're going near the flats."

Becky weighed this in her head - as a black person she was probably far safer than Bastien in the Cape Flats, but as a woman, she was probably more at risk in other ways. She settled for nodding in agreement, as they breached the airport exit, where the air conditioning heartlessly abandoned them. The warmth sent her eyelids drooping again as Bastien lead her across the road, to the car park.

"So how was London?" Bastien asked. A grin crept its way onto Becky's face.

"Exhausting," she declared immediately. "Slept off jet lag. Went to check on my parent's house. Went to the bank. Went to the doctor. Went to the tax office. Caught up with my two best friends. Had big Shadowchaser graduation ceremony. Went out and got _a liiiiittle_ drunk with my two best friends…"

"You didn't get drunk _at_ the ceremony, did you?" Bastien asked, part worried and part amused. Becky laughed.

"God no! We saved that for afterwards."

There were some things Jalal never needed to see the men and women under his command doing, and Becky knew that Judy pulling a celebrity in a London nightclub was one of them. Still, she had been better than Emily - Becky had vague memories of the Librarian's apprentice weaving down the street next to her, singing some random song about leather pants, in a voice that could charitably be described as out of tune, but more realistically resembled a werewolf undergoing an exorcism.

"You sure you don't mind riding double?" Bastien asked, as they approached his D-Wheel. "It's only half an hour to Bantry."

"I've been trapped in planes for the last sixteen hours," Becky stopped checking out his bike to offer a smile. "I will do a handstand if it gets me closer to home."

He laughed. "Now there's an image. You missing your baby?"

Becky unsuccessfully smothered a yawn. "Hell yes. Last two weeks I developed a twitch in my hands whenever I was out. Fayte had to tell me twice to stop trying to rev my unicorn's mane to make her go faster."

"It'll be worth it," Bastien assured her, storing her case in the back. "There's some gorgeous stretches of coast round the mountain. Bike is the best way to see them. You should take your baby out once you get over the lag."

"You still okay to ship it back to London after I'm done?" Becky asked, wiggling her leather jacket back on. Usually her favourite piece of clothing, it was wholly unwelcome in the warm air.

"Not a problem," her colleague tossed her a familiar helmet. "Adds some variety to our day."

Becky grinned as she clipped the strap into place. "You've got all of South Africa to police - I should think there's enough variety to go around. Speaking of which, are there any areas I should try and avoid, aside from the flats?"

It never hurt to know everything about the feel of a city, even if you had visited it yourself before. Now that she was a Shadowchaser, Becky knew she would be seeing the familiar city with brand new eyes.

"The usual make up for this kind of city," Bastien said, slipping his own helmet on and straddling the bike. Becky gratefully slid on after him, leaning casually against his back. "A little bit of everything. We've got a larger than average dwarf population - mostly ex diamond miners from Kimberly or Koffiefontein. There's a decent sized community of elves in Newlands Forest too, but none of them will cause you any trouble. Take care if you go near Table Mountain though. Xicerine doesn't like it when people bother him."

"Who's Xicerine?" Becky asked, as the engine purred to life beneath them. She felt a jolt of excitement at the prospect of being on a bike again.

"Our roc."

"Scuse me?" she blinked in surprise. Bastien laughed, spotting her face in the mirror.

"Yeah. Feathery and really antisocial. That's why we don't have any dragons nearby, and why Jalal doesn't visit ever. Not worth pissing Xicerine off. And he hates it when tourists get too close to his roost, so we try to keep that spot of the mountain hidden for him."

"I see," Becky nodded, wondering how on earth you hid a bird with an eighty foot wingspan. Even though they were a good distance away from the city centre, she could not help but scan the sky hopefully as they circled out of the airport and onto the approach.

"It's very unlikely that you'll see him just flying overhead," Bastien called her out on it, as they paused at the junction. She pouted, and adjusted her grip around his waist better.

"I can dream," she said loudly in his ear. He chuckled, pulling out onto the approach, where, to Becky's joy, she could see the shadow of mountains in the distance framed against the blue sky.

Her exploration of her surroundings was interrupted by a familiar sound, and the vehicle's screen filled with a new face, hidden partially by their own helmet.

"Hey Than," Bastien greeted, as he overtook a taxi.

"Your voicemail is full," his colleague said by way of greeting, and Becky grinned to herself at the familiar accent. She had spoken to Thando a few times while planning her trip to Cape Town - in addition to both being Xhosa, their families shared clan ties, having both come from Port Elizabeth. "Learn to empty it like a normal person."

"Noted," Bastien said, with a tone that indicated this was not the first time he had been asked this. He frowned at his screen. "Why are you down in the Crossroads?"

Leaning over her driver's shoulder, Becky got a good view of the scenery as it streaked past Thando's D-Wheel. He seemed to be driving through a shanty town.

"Sky called and said something was kicking off outside the school," Thando reported. "I'll give you the details when I know them." He blinked and smiled. "Is that a British Shadowchaser growing out of your shoulder? You should get that looked at my friend, before it spreads."

Becky snorted. "Be nice to me, Thando. I have your duty free whiskey hostage in my bag!"

The man on the other end of the screen gave a needy sounding groan.

"If you're down in the Crossroads Thando I assume you need me to do something for you?" Bastien asked, shrewdly.

"Yes," his colleague stopped pulling the puppy eyes, and instead became all business again. "I need you to pop down to the Stone Cutters. Dvagar says they've had a break in. Nothing stolen, and nobody is hurt, but they've left a real mess that they think we should take a look at."

In the wing mirror, Becky could see Bastien frowning. "Someone broke into the Stone Cutters and didn't steal any of their bling?"

"I guess not," Thando admitted. "Of course it's possible Dvagar just might not have wanted to say anything over the phone. Either way…"

"I'll get down there once I've dropped Becky off," Bastien promised, glancing at her in the mirror. "Sorry - this will have to be a flying introduction."

"That's fine," Becky assured him wholeheartedly. "I'll make a better impression when I'm not jet lagged anyway." Her stomach was pointedly reminding her that she hadn't eaten in a while, and there was a barbecue at the end of the day's travelling.

Thando pulled into the school, and said a hasty goodbye before hanging up. The D-Wheel screen returned to it's previous GPS readout.

"What - or who - are the Stone Cutters?" Becky asked, sliding back down into her more comfortable position, now that she did not have to peer at the screen.

"Officially they're a social club, set up for retired diamond miners," Bastien explained. "Unofficially they're a group of old dwarves from Kimberly who like to sit around, relax with a mug of beer, and try to keep their hand in the trade - usually by 'liberating' places like Zimbabwe or Angola of their conflict diamonds." He rolled his eyes and Becky could practically hear the quotation marks around his words.

"Sounds pretty badass."

"Oh they are," came the wry smile. "Which makes me a little worried when they say they've had a break in. There's probably plenty of glitter in that building that could have been filched, so I'm sceptical that nothing has gone missing."

He overtook a slow moving heavy goods vehicle. The motorway had turned into suburbs now, the low sprawling buildings in bright colours a direct contrast to the brief flashes of the Crossroads that had been on the screen not a moment ago. Two lanes over from them, a pair of D-Wheels roared as they shot off in the opposite direction, the familiar landscape of Speed World surrounding them, as duel monsters danced overhead. A yawn temporarily forced Becky's eyes shut, and when she opened them again, the two bikes had already disappeared further down the road.

"Still with me back there?" Bastien asked.

"Think so," she admitted, as a hologram burst into existence the distance, revealing the unmistakable silhouette of Mecha Phantom Beast Dracossack materialised over the field. "Ooo that's going to sting!"

Her driver grinned at her. "And spook any passing aeroplanes. Any of your family picked it up?"

Becky giggled. "Yes, much to my mother's exasperation. Me, my sister, my cousin, my aunt's fiancé, and my grandmother all duel. The cousin and the fiancé both have D-Wheels - Nana is still saving up for one."

"Right...how old is your grandmother, again?" Bastien asked, sounding a touch worried that he might soon find a mad octogenarian terrorising the duel track. Another fit of giggles overcame Becky, and she chastised herself for acting so childishly.

"She's sixty five, and don't worry - we'll keep an eye on her if we take her turbo duelling. My aunt will kill us if we have an accident a few days before her wedding."

Bastien laughed. "This is true. So is your aunt going full Xhosa for the wedding, or are we shunning tradition in favour of the west?

Becky snorted. "Not shunning - in spite of what her fiancé's relatives think. They're having both. Western wedding and actual signing of papers on Saturday, Xhosa ceremony on Sunday. Marina did the full traditional in her last marriage, and she doesn't want to do it the same again. And they both live in Cape Town, so there's less of a village to involve."

"Aww, so no animal slaughtering?" Bastien asked. Becky jabbed him in the shoulder, but it lacked real force – she knew he was only teasing.

"I will say nothing on the grounds that you will mock me later," she said, sticking her tongue out as her colleague laughed. "Shut up! There's a spear ceremony, and a cow for the welcome, and singing. That's about as traditional as we're getting!"

"Ooh sing for me?" her driver shot her a winning smile in the mirror, and Becky felt her cheeks burn again.

"Not a bloody chance!" she could sing - actually she could sing rather well after five years of lessons - but she was not doing it now.

"Go on! I won't laugh!"

"I don't care! I'm not singing! I've been in air conditioned boxes all day - I sound like I've been gargling marbles!"

The playful argument continued as they left the suburbs behind and the road began to dip down into the city centre, the ocean appeared in the distance. Becky was hit by flashes of memory from her last few visits, as houses and other buildings began to spread out before them in a colourful mosaic. Still shadowing them on the left, was the end of Table Mountain. Even this close it was still half obscured by clouds. Becky pursed her lips and pretended to blow the cloud away, knowing that it would have been silly. From this angle there was no way you could see the top.

"Is that the first mountain you've seen in the last year?" her driver teased.

"Actually yeah - Nebraska's like a pancake," Becky nodded, tearing her gaze away from the mountain as they continued along the main road and it began to creep away behind them.

"So are the rumours I've heard about Backwater true?" Bastien asked, as they slowed down to accommodate the thicker traffic. Becky chuckled.

"Couldn't possibly tell you," she said innocently.

"Oh come on! I've seen the notes! Somewhere with that kind of concentration of Shadowkind has to have _some_ stories to share. Is it true it's on top of an ancient Indian burial ground, and that's why it's so magical?"

The thought made Becky shudder. "Please don't talk about burial grounds. You do not want to know what I ended up doing the night before I left!"

"...well now I do!"

Wincing at the memory, Becky detailed her last night on duty, as they weaved into the central business district. The city was part concrete business jungle, and part stone houses washed in gentle colours, with wooden shutters, and wrought iron fences to keep back the street. The artist in Becky, which had lain dormant for most of the last year, suddenly awoke with a shriek of glee at the sight of so many adorable buildings and bits of scenery to photograph. Even though it was mostly hidden behind the closely packed buildings, she found herself remaining acutely aware of the presence of the mountain, looming like a watchful parent over those that lived in its shadow.

With the sudden surge in rush hour traffic however, Bastien stopped asking for stories about Backwater, and instead became excessively vocal in multiple languages as the cars pushed and jostled for space.

"Learn to drive, dumbass!" her fellow Shadowchaser shouted, as a car darted out ahead of him trying to catch the light, which had long since turned red. Upon hearing her laugh, he gave her a guilty look in the mirror. "Sorry."

Scoffing, Becky rolled her eyes. "I've been in America for the last year. Believe me, I've heard it all." She grinned, remembering the times she had hit the Nebraskan highways with Rave, who had a mouth like a drunk, sexually frustrated sailor.

Bastien gave her a smile, but it looked slightly forced. "Fair enough. I just can't stand people like that. The roads are no place for idiots."

He was silent until the light turned green again, and the traffic began to embrace them once more. Becky tactfully remained quiet, choosing instead to lean her head against his shoulder and scan the sky once more. The smell of lemongrass and leather rose up to meet her and she grinned, feeling all her muscles untense. She needed this trip…

The waterfront vanished behind them, as they rounded the top of the mountain, and continued through the terraced streets. Almost instantly Becky could see the architecture changing, giving way to fancy modern houses, in clean white plaster, glossy wood and blue glass. Bantry Bay had some of the most expensive real estate in Cape Town, and she could feel the atmosphere changing from the busy rush of the city, to the quiet, calm, fanciness of an area where people did things at their own pace, and in their own way.

The Shadowchaser's home in Cape Town was located on the highest road, with the sloped rise of the mountain on one side, and row after row of houses terraced down the other, eventually stopping when they met the beach. The sun was low in the sky, and Becky knew that watching it set from the beach must be spectacular. No wonder everything on this side of town was so expensive.

Bastien pulled into one of the larger houses, with two garage doors set into the very front. One of them rolled upwards obediently and he pulled in. Becky could not resist a squeak of happiness as she saw her own bike parked neatly on the side. Her hand started to twitch again. In a few moments, she would be back on the road under her own steam.

"End of the line," her driver announced, killing the engine. "I'd offer you coffee, but I've got a burglary to investigate."

"Another day when I'm more presentable perhaps," Becky suggested, sliding off the back of the vehicle and unstrapping her case. "Or if anything interesting comes up. I know I'm on vacation but if you're up to something fun and need an extra pair of hands, I'm available."

Bastien crooked a grin from under his helmet. "Never off duty with this job, are we?"

"That's what makes it fun," Becky stated, unzipping her bag and pulling out the bottles of whiskey. "Speaking of duty, tell Thando he can pay me back whenever he has a second." She gave him a teasing smile. "And don't worry - I won't tell Jalal that you're holding cocktail parties in his property."

"Ah, I knew we could count on you to be discreet, Becks," Bastien chuckled. "Please feel free to join our next wild night - with three people attending we might be daring and break out the jenga."

Snorting as she deposited the bottles on the workbench, Becky turned around with a snap of her fingers. "Keys?"

She side stepped to grab the flying metal. "Ta. Thanks again for the lift."

She was pleasantly surprised as Bastien leaned forward out of his seat and gave her a quick hug. "Anytime. Enjoy the barbecue."

"Will do," she settled into the seat of her own bike feeling just a touch giddy to be back in the seat. "You enjoy the dwarves."

"Oh I will - I love a good break in!" came the reply, as the bike roared into life once again. Chuckling, Becky kicked her own engine into gear and sped out of the garage and up the road, mentally plotting her route, and praying that jet lag did not decide to catch up with her on the motorway.

OOO

Situated in the pretty beach suburb of Muizenberg, the Stone Cutters looked from the outside like a tiny gentleman's social club (literally, for the front entrance consisted of a door which was barely five foot high). Nestled in the shadow of the mountains, it was about as close as the dwarves could get to being near the earth, without intruding too close to the forest (never a good idea, as dwarves and elves were famous for not getting on).

Crouching to get over the threshold, Bastien entered to find a scene of total chaos. The usually ordered chairs, tables and comfortable sofas had been overturned, with papers scattered everywhere like a snow flurry. Posters had been torn to confetti, and framed photographs had been pulled off the wall and smashed, leaving a trail of glass in the debris. The Shadowchaser felt something crunch under his shoe, and he winced as he found a little green plastic house, now broken in two beneath his tread. His eyes found the monopoly board to which it belonged discarded over the back of a chair, with what looked like claw marks dug into it.

Loud voices were arguing from the kitchen, and Bastien carefully picked his way through the damage toward it. It had not fared any better than the main room - cupboards had been torn open, and boxes raided. Even the bottles had not escaped. Something was cooking on the stove, and Bastien wrinkled his nose, deciding that he did not want to know what was for dinner. A radio had escaped the carnage, and was rapping away from one of the countertops. The table in the middle of the kitchen had been turned back the right way up, and five short figures now clustered around it, their argument getting progressively louder and involving wilder gesturing.

"...if you guys are looking at naked photos of Mai Valentine again, I'm out of here." Bastien announced his presence with a wry smile. All five of them rounded like a herd of startled antelope.

"Bastien!" Sliding his chair back noisily, Dvagar dropped to the ground, his braided beard only just clearing the top of the table, and hurried over to welcome their visitor. "Come in. Sorry about the mess."

He pushed a pile of pots aside with his foot so that Bastien could step into the room properly. Another dwarf thumped the radio, and the terrible rap music vanished obediently.

"Yeah, someone was having a party in here," Bastien commented, casting an eye over the mess before landing on the dwarves. "Nobody's hurt, are they?"

"None of us were here," Dvagar gestured pointedly at his comrades. "We've been up in Bellville all day watching the cricket. Only got back an hour ago and that's when we found this mess."

He nudged a shredded box of rice with the toe of his boot, jumping backwards as more grains came pouring out all over the floor. One of the other dwarves sighed, and began to examine the beer bottles to see if any more of them could be salvaged.

"Any idea how they got in?" Bastien asked, making his way slowly around the counters, peering closely at all the damage for any clues that might be had.

"That's the queer thing," Dvagar admitted, accepting one of the beer bottles and snapping it open. "All our doors and windows were locked tight before we left, and stayed that way. I checked them myself when we got back."

"I thought it might have been kids." A ginger dwarf, who's name Bastien vaguely remembered to be Pix, was leaning his chair back on two legs, his arms folded thoughtfully. "From the school." He added, seeing the curious look from the Shadowchaser. "Sometimes they come down here - like to take the piss out of the little old men."

Dvagar shook his head. "Those little shits would never have got in here without forcing one of the doors. My money's on magic."

"Mine too," Bastien agreed, pulling out a box of crackers from the cupboard, and allowing the crushed and chewed contents to pour sadly out of the hole in the bottom. "This reminds me of a mouse or animal, rather than a vandal. Plus you've got a kingdom's worth of diamonds hidden in here, and whatever broke in decided to tear up your posters and food instead."

Dvagar dissolved into a sudden coughing fit. "I never said we had diamonds in here. Nothing of the sort."

"Hmm…" Bastien grunted. He really did not mind - at least in the hands of the Stone Cutters, no government could make money off the precious stones. They were just keeping their hand in the game. You never really retired from gems when you were a dwarf.

"You haven't pissed anyone off that you know of, have you?" he asked shrewdly.

"Not to my knowledge," getting over his sudden throat tickle with a few swigs of beer, Dvagar pointed his bottle out of the window in the direction of the trees beyond. "I mean, the elves don't like us in general, but I'm not stupid. Something like this is too petty for them."

"Hmm…" Bastien did not add that with several of their own kind missing over the last few weeks, they had far more important things on their mind than juvenile pranks. "Anything strange been going on in the area? Lights in the sky? Spells being cast over someone's house?"

Like magic, Dvagar and three of the other dwarves rounded on the fifth. He looked uncomfortably at his phone, as though now questioning whether he was being a bit daft.

"Mikar here reckons he's seeing a sea witch," Dvagar jerked his head toward his friend, but there was an undertone of amusement to his voice, which said exactly what he thought of his friend's claims. Sure enough, Mikar shot him a filthy look.

"You can all stick your scepticism up your arses," he said, unlocking the screen and flipping through the pictures. "Here."

He shoved the phone into Bastien's hands and threw himself back into his chair with his arms folded, the very picture of sulking. Dvagar smothered a chuckle in his beer, as Bastien examined the image. A tingle went down his spine at the sight of it.

Mikar had forgotten to turn on Night Mode before taking the photo, and as such, the road, the beach and ocean beyond blurred into a single mess of shadow. A streetlight by the walkway provided some useful illumination, showing the figure against the railing, about human height and completely shrouded in what looked like the most ragged cloak imaginable.

"What on earth is that?" Bastien tapped the image twice to enlarge it, but it merely became more grainy and indecipherable.

"Seaweed," Mikar said instantly. As Bastien's head jerked up sharply, the dwarf shrugged. "Could smell it down the other end of the street. Her whole body was covered in it."

Bastien frowned. "How did you know it was a woman?"

For the first time since the Shadowchaser's arrival, Mikar's mouth twitched into a smile. "You've never seen a female dwarf, have you lad? Trust me – beards don't hide it from me any more and neither does loose clothing. I can always tell."

"I think Mikar's in love," Pix's stage whisper earned him a kick in the knee that overbalanced his chair and sent him sprawling onto his back. He got up, cursing.

"Where was this?" Bastien asked, already pressing a button to forward the image onto his own phone.

"Down on Main Road," Mikar shrugged. "Just outside the Beach Bar. I went outside for a smoke and saw her just as I was coming out the door."

"Did she seem...hostile?" A nasty thought was worming its way into Bastien's mind, and he did not like it.

"No but…" Mikar glanced uncomfortably off towards the wall before answering. "Sounds stupid, but...just had a feeling that we were the ones she was watching."

"Were there any other Shadowkind in the bar at the time?" Bastien asked. Mikar shrugged, looking hopefully at his comrade for help.

"Pretty sure we were the only ones there," Dvagar confirmed. "Not many Shadowkind in this part of town - that's kinda why we set up here in the first place. Wanted a bit of peace and quiet."

He cast a dry eye around at the mess.

"Soon as I snapped that, she jumped over the railing, down onto the beach," Mikar continued. "I went and had a look just in case she had hurt herself." He shrugged. "No one there but the waves."

"I still say you were drunk," another of the dwarves put in.

"And I still say you can bite me!" Mikar finally succumbed to embarrassment, and took his phone back from Bastien with ruddy cheeks. Guessing that he would not get anything else out of him, the Shadowchaser turned back to Dvagar.

"Mind if I have a poke around the building?" he asked.

"Be my guest," the dwarf shrugged. "We'd better start tidying this mess if we want to get home tonight."

While the Stone Cutters reluctantly began to haul themselves up to search out brooms and bin bags, Bastien let himself into the other rooms of the tiny building. A more detailed sweep of the main room found no traces of magic. The upstairs bedrooms had been converted into a small library (a quick peek behind the shelves found a line of wall safes, all of which were happily locked and undisturbed), and a makeshift study, which also served as storage space for memorabilia. But aside from torn carpets, smashed pictures, and books with pages ripped out, nothing else was out of place.

Feeling a little disheartened, he trudged back downstairs to find Mikar carefully stacking the damaged photos in the main room. Behind him, Dvagar and Pix were throwing the shredded cushions into a bin bag, sending feathers flying everywhere.

"I've set up a few additional protection spells over the building." Bastien announced. "They won't keep out anything serious, but if this was a serious breach, I think you'd be missing more than your food."

Dvagar's beard twitched into a smile. "You're gold, Bastien. Knew I could rely on you." He sneezed loudly and thrust the offending cushion into the black bag, before rummaging in his vest pocket, and pulling out a slightly squashed box of Marlboros. "You should come join us one evening, once we've cleaned the place up. Have a few drinks. I've seen you play cards on that bike of yours - we should see if you're any good at Trivial Pursuit."

"I'll keep it in mind," Bastien agreed, knowing that it was probably one of the last ways he would chose to spend his night off. Not that the dwarves weren't nice, but he did not loan himself well to idleness. He had tried it a few times in the last few years, and none of those times had it ever worked out well. Three times he had got too drunk for words, and one night he had picked up a random girl off the street, and made the mistake of bringing her back home. It had been very hard to explain to her the next morning why she had to leave right _now_ because his boss wanted a conference call (only compounded by the problem that he hadn't been able to remember her name in the harsh light of morning).

And in the end, none of those had properly distracted him. If anything, they had just thrown his situation into sharper relief. So now he worked. It was the only time where he felt like himself these days, except for the few rare moments he and Thando could enjoy a few hours of down time in front of the TV.

"Is that all of the rooms in this place?" he asked, trying to swallow the disappointment.

"All except the outhouse," Mikar answered, as Dvagar took a deep soothing drag from his cigarette. Seeing Bastien's sharp look, he jerked his head towards the back of the house. "Hey even dwarves have to piss, y'know - the upstairs toilet clogs sometimes."

Making a mental note never to use said bathroom, Bastien glanced around the room. "How do I get out there?"

Dropping a stack of damaged frames, Mikar turned and headed for the door. "Follow me."

He lead him back through the kitchen (where the smell coming from the cooker had taken on a new level of unpleasantness) to a small box hanging on the wall. Retrieving an old key from the hook inside, Mikar then turned and headed for the back door by the fridge, wincing as he stepped on a bag of crisps with a loud crunch.

"Good thing we picked up the stew ingredients on our way back," he muttered, jerking his head towards the bubbling pot on the stove, before shouldering the back door open. The smell of the questionable food vanished instantly, causing Mikar's expression to drop into a frown. "Hey, can you smell the beach?"

Bastien's heart was already sinking. His eyes followed the concrete path the ran off to their left along the side of the house, coming to rest underneath the kitchen window. The puddle of water glistened in the twilight.

"Hate it when I'm right," he muttered, pulling a glass vial out of his pocket and approaching with care. He could not explain why the sight of the puddle caused the hair on his neck to stand on end, but it did, and it was not a pleasant feeling.

Mikar was frowning at the sky. "Wasn't scheduled to rain today...oh hell! I left my laundry on the line!"

"I think your laundry is safe," Bastien admitted, crouching down to snap a photograph of the puddle. Pieces of a long and detailed puzzle were starting to snap together. "And I think your sea witch doesn't like having her photo taken."

Mikar's ruddy face went pale under his beard. "...I need a fucking drink."

OOO

The Naidu's had not even lived a generation in Cape Town. Becky's grandmother Lihle Naidu had been born, raised, married, given birth and raised her three children in Ibhayi, just outside of Port Elizabeth. She had patted Jeremia on the back bracingly, as he had headed off to begin his police training in Pretoria. She had taken a pregnant Marina back in, when her good for nothing arse of a husband had left her to be with a prettier woman in Durban. She had proudly hugged Elize, and kissed Andi and Becky goodbye as they had headed for the plane that would take them to their new lives in the UK. And she had gently held her husband's hand as he had passed away, in the comfort of their tiny home.

All three of her children had returned for the funeral, during which they had quietly discussed their mother's future. Becky had been twelve, and remembered how exhausted and drawn her mother had looked on returning.

"I just don't know," she had shaken her head quietly to her husband, when she had thought that both girls were in bed. "She says she will be fine, but now that she's on her own…"

Whether her mother was psychic or just highly deductive, Becky still had yet to guess, for she had been completely right. Three months after the funeral, a young man had forced the old lock on the back door, and crept in. Only a lucky bathroom visit had saved Lihle from being hurt, and a solid cricket bat to the face had saved her house from being pilfered. Knowing that the police had little fucks to give for a woman approaching her sixties, she had packed her belongings up that very night, and after a nine and a half hour drive in a clapped out old Nissan pickup truck, had arrived on Marina's doorstep in Cape Town, sheepishly asking if she might borrow the sofa for the night.

That night had turned into two months, and after many back and forths between the siblings, a solution had been reached. Lihle had sold her house. Marina had sold her flat. Each of the siblings had chipped in what they could, and when the pot was large enough, Lihle, Marina and her thirteen year old daughter Violett, had moved into a larger, three bedroom house in the Tableview suburb of Cape Town.

It was to this house, that Becky now drove, down a narrow, pretty street, lined on both sides by trees. Between the gaps in the leaves were walls, tall gates, and houses of brick and concrete, painted a range from terracotta to pale green. Most of the houses had one car, battered and dust covered like most of the cars she had seen in Nebraska, and so unlike the UK, where vehicles were regularly washed by rain. She felt a twinge of fondness for her home country - she had been away too long.

The family house was half way down the road, with a large tree casting the building into shade. Sitting casually on top of the wall, with a lollipop being rolled around her mouth, was Andi. As soon as she caught sight of her sister, she slid off the brick and opened the gate, allowing Becky to roll her D-Wheel gently into the short driveway, next to the hire car. As the bars closed up behind her, she killed the engine, and removed her helmet before her brain could melt. Flip-flops clacking against the drive, Andi skipped up behind her. Becky was impressed that she did not even stop to moan enviously at her D-Wheel before wrapping her arms over her shoulders.

"I missed you!" her little sister declared, her voice lisping through the lollipop. Something warm that had nothing to do with how hot it was in her leather jacket bloomed in Becky's chest, and she gave Andi a squeeze.

"Missed you too," she assured her, pulling back and fluffing her sister's short slightly frizzy hair. "And you're missing something since I last saw you. Looks good though - are you trying to trick the world into thinking you're sophisticated now?"

Andi stuck her tongue out around her lollipop. She had worn her long hair in corn rows for the last three years, but had chopped them off spontaneously a week before term had started, to the shock of everyone on facebook. "I have a boyfriend now, so I must be doing something right. How was the flight? Did you sleep?"

Becky snorted, completely aware that her sister had purposefully deflected any questioning about her recent acquisition. "Napping on and off. America was worse - fat guy next to me kept getting up to use the bathroom."

Andi gave a sympathetic suck on her lollipop before crunching it loudly. "Well Nana's on the barbecue for dinner, so the excitement'll wake you up if nothing else."

Laughter escaped in place of the yawn that had intended to leave Becky's mouth. Her grandmother had the discipline of a military mess officer when confronted with a family to feed. "Best not keep her waiting then."

Removing her case from the back of her bike, she followed her sister to the door. The entrance was littered with shoes, and Andi amused herself by kicking her flip flops as high as she could while Becky sat on her case to remove her boots. Nothing much had changed since their last visit. The front door opened out into the large, open plan living room, and through the archway on the left, she could smell the unmistakable scent of pumpkin and roasted meats. The nine tarantula tanks sat on the two display shelves opposite the doorway. Marina's theory was that any burglar would take one look at them and flee in terror. Fortunately this had yet to be tested. Their presence did seem to be effective, however, in deterring other spiders from the house.

"Andiswa, the ceiling!" their mother hurried over, drying her hands on a tea towel, before kissing her eldest daughter on both cheeks and squeezing her tight

"Sorry Mum," Andi deliberately lisped around her empty lollipop stick before spitting it into the bin. Becky chuckled and gave her mother a reassuring pat before pulling back.

"Missed you," she assured her. "Sorry I'm a bit late - you should have seen the traffic in the bowl."

"Still can't believe you brought your bike," Andi said, grabbing the case and wheeling it across the wooden floor, leaving a trail of dust behind. "What could possibly justify the expense?"

"One, being able to escape from you," Becky stuck her tongue out at her sister. "Two, it's one less person to fit in the car. Three, I know we're going duelling at least once on this holiday. And four, I might go meet up with some colleagues at some point."

Her mother's eyebrows pinched together in concern, as they always did when Becky mentioned anything to do with her mysterious job. The awkward air was swiftly broken by a loud voice.

"There she is!" charging through the archway in a whirl of orange and green, Becky had just a second to approve of the cheerful sparkle on Marina's face, before she was swept up in another hug. "It is so good to see you, my dear!" She kissed her on both cheeks, before holding her back to inspect her. "You look skinny! Did the Americans not feed you?"

Becky snorted. The idea of any of her teammates not eating bordered on absurd. "I traded any fat I had for muscle," she admitted. "It's far more useful." In fact she was pretty certain that Rayearth had a way of frightening the fat off your body, simply by looking at you across the training room.

"Oh we'll soon fix that," Marina waved a hand. "You are on holiday now. That means you relax! Let's get you a drink - oh and Xhosa for the evening. It's only fair on your Nana."

Becky nodded, mentally adjusting back to her mother tongue. Marina and Violett were both fluent in English and Afrikaans, but Lihle had never progressed beyond basic. "Where's Vi?" she asked, letting the familiar words materialise around her mouth.

"On campus," Marina said. "She'll be back in about half an hour. Ruan is working until seven, but he said he would try and leave early if he could. You and your sister are rooming with Vi - hopefully you can all squeeze in."

It was impossible to miss the way that Marina's smile became just a fraction wider as she mentioned her fiancé. Becky had already grilled her extensively on Facebook, pleased when she had nothing but good things to say. Violett too, had been happy with her mother's choice, and had been all too delighted to feed Becky some of the better reports. She had been particularly pleased to hear that Ruan had been mindful enough of Marina's feelings over her first marriage, to forego the traditional ukutwala. Instead, they had had a more tongue-in-cheek version where Ruan had 'kidnapped' her from work, and whisked her off to a hotel in Stellenbosch for a sneaky weekend break.

With apparent effortlessness, Marina steered the family into the kitchen, and began pouring her niece a drink. Her mother went back to the stove, where all manner of foods were already cooking away, the smells wafting around the room before disappearing out of the open back door. Becky could hear her grandmother loudly calling instructions, and her father appeared mildly windswept as he entered the kitchen with the empty serving dishes, stacked high in his arms.

"Hello love," he bent down to give Becky a kiss on the cheek. "How were your flights?"

"Boring," Becky replied immediately. She could have detailed the peeing American to him, but she had no room to complain - her father had once been on a flight where a seven month pregnant woman had gone into labour. "I stopped by the house before I left. Brought all the post in - your kitchen aid has arrived by the way. Sally has been round to feed Sandor - I ran into her while I was over. She said he got stuck on the shed roof again, so she's put a bucket on top of the fence post so he can't climb up there."

"Hmm…" her father deposited the serving dishes in the sink, a thoughtful look on his face. "I'll try do something about that when we get home."

"Not if the frosts have arrived you won't," her mother put in, removing her spoon from the sautéed pumpkin and pointing it at him like a weapon. "That garden is slippery at the best of times. I don't want to visit A&E again before Christmas."

"It wasn't that cold when I was there," Becky put in helpfully, inching past her parents towards the door. She loved them to pieces, but there was one more person that she had to say hello to before she could relax. She could smell the barbecue nearby, and she stepped onto soft grass, not caring that her feet were bare. It was hard to think about the chilly autumn air back home when she was sitting in twenty three degrees of evening sunshine.

Standing over the large barbecue pit, wielding a pair of tongs in each hand, Lihle appeared to be a magician, as she flipped joints of lamb on the coals, sending flames bursting into life around her. Two small chickens were skewered over the top rotisserie style, their skins already browning nicely. The smell made Becky's mouth water - she hadn't eaten since breakfast - and she skipped over to the barbecue and hovered over the shorter woman's shoulder.

"Something smells nice."

Lihle turned with a wide, mischievous smile. "Thank you dear - I am using a new perfume."

Becky chuckled, before she was wrapped in the comforting embrace of her grandmother. It resurrected every memory of visiting as a child, with soft fabric, motherly hands, and the scent of lime and bergamot.

"Missed you Nana." She got a little sniff as her grandmother drew back.

"I should hope so too!" the smaller woman said. In spite of her sixty five years, her face was still smooth and full, framed by her short black hair, dark brown eyes peering out behind thick lashes. Age did not seem to touch her, and Becky hoped that she would still be as energetic when she reached her retirement.

"Ooh look how big you are." As though expecting to find something, Lihle examined every inch of her granddaughter, from her bare feet, all the way up her jeans and vest top, to her face. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, before knitting together with a knowing smile. To Becky's astonishment, she cupped her face, and traced a thumb across her cheek, right over her Shadowchaser mark.

There was a clack as a pair of flip flops were tossed onto the deck by the door.

"I don't know _what_ you're carrying in that suitcase, Becks!" Andi's entrance was loud, and continuing before Becky could say a word. "But it better be bloody important! I almost broke a toe when I put it down!"

She felt as though someone had scrambled her thoughts, and she could still feel the tingle of her grandmother's thumb over her cheek. Their father was fast on her sister's heels, with clean dishes for the cooked meat, and Becky felt the warm strong hands squeeze both of hers.

"We'll catch up later, dear." Lihle promised, before going back to her rotisserie. "If you want to do your grandmother a favour Andiswa, you can go inside and grab my dish of sauce - I'm not convinced this chicken is ready to sing yet!"

OOO

"She looks like an extra in a badly made M. Night Shyamalan movie," Thando's eyes finished squinting at the camera phone image, before handing it back to his teammate and retreating behind the well worn sci-fi novel. "You think she's the one behind our vanishings?"

"Can't be a coincidence, Than," Bastien said. "The puddle of water was there just like all the others." He had already dropped the sample off to their resident marine biologist on the way home.

"But nobody's missing?" Thando checked, spinning his fork around in his rice with one hand, while the other turned a page.

"Nobody was there," he admitted. "All the Stone Cutters were up at Bellville, and Dvagar called everyone who went straight home from the match to make sure they were okay. None of them are missing."

"But the break in looks more like an animal," Thando pointed out. "A person would have taken something, not just caused chaos."

Bastien sighed heavily. "You're right. There's not much of a link. I just...have this feeling that they're connected."

He shook his head and went back to his own food. The chicken looked tender, and smelt delicious, but he was not sure if he felt like eating now. "So what happened in the Crossroads?"

"New red pin," Thando muttered grimly, jabbing his fork at the living room. "That's what happened."

"Shit. Seriously?" Bastien scooted his chair back to peer through the open door. Even from here, he could see the new flag protruding from the map of Cape Town, and his heart sank.

"Unfortunately yes," Thando nodded, his eyes darting over the lines of text in his book. "Two half-fiends and an incubus. And not just any incubus, either."

"Oh don't tell me," Bastien thumped the legs of his chair back into place, knowing just who his friend was referring to. Sarrelle was a frequent sight in Cape Town - they had never managed to find out who kept summoning him, but they seemed to have a taste for him in particular. Unfortunately, Sarrelle's tastes were far more extensive, and he regularly prowled the nightclubs of Cape Town looking for easy prey.

"Okay, I won't," Thando offered. "But it was them. Sky saw one of the girls in her class getting into a car with Sarrelle and his two buddies - apparently he's been pursuing her for a while. Sky ran to stop them, but before she could get there, all three demons vanished into thin air, and the car crashed straight into a house across the street."

Bastien groaned. "Was the girl hurt?"

"Nope," Thando shook his head. "Beyond screaming her head off, I mean. More than I can say for the house - whole thing was made of corrugated iron held together with chewing gum, by the looks of it. Sky got her student out of there, calmed her down and called me. No magic that I could see - I did look for a puddle, but to be honest, the road is dirt and probably sucked it up. I was just about to leave when the owner of the house showed up and decided to call the police." Abruptly, he started laughing. "Nkhosi was so mad that I got to the crime scene before he did. Practically accused me of having something to do with it."

"Hmm...he said something similar to me last week," Bastien mused aloud, picking some of his chicken off the bone. "You think we should ask Kloeter to get him to back off us a bit?"

"At this stage," Thando laced his fingers and sighed thoughtfully. "I think that would only make it worse. He seems pretty convinced that we are dealing in shady business. Better to keep him at a distance and not give him any excuse to think even worse of us."

"So glad I didn't run into him on the N2 then," Bastien snorted. "I spent more time over the speed limit than under it."

Thando's thoughtful expression became teasing. "That eager to pick up Becky, were you?"

"Give it a rest, Than," Bastien jabbed his fork at him. "I meant the orcs. I sent three of them to HQ for dangerous driving, highway robbery, possession of offensive weapons, and possession of amphetamines...oh! And driving without wing mirrors."

"Uh-huh," Thando seemed to remember that his own food was awaiting his pleasure, and he filled his fork to toppling point before shoving it in his mouth. "I'll send her the money when I have a moment - online banking keeps crashing."

"You can do it in person if you want," Bastien offered. "She might stop by while she's over. I did say I'd call her if anything weird came up."

He half expected some kind of retort about how Becky was on holiday, that holidays were meant for relaxing, and how he should try it himself with his own untouched twenty five days of paid leave. But Thando just shrugged and went back to his book.

"Fair enough. Speaking of visitors, I got a message from Dani, too."

He tossed his phone over, before going back to his book. Bastien never understood how Thando wound up with so many contacts. His own phone possessed less than ten.

" _Good news - found Vuyo in Hwange. Bad news - found her in jail. Paid her release and heading back to SA. Should be over the border tomorrow morning. She'll be with you Thursday."_

He'd signed his message off with a squinty faced emoticon that made Bastien laugh. Like all of them, Dani was fond of Vuyo, but he ended up spending most of his monthly budget paying her bail, or parting with very large bribes to secure her release. She might not have been a Shadowchaser, but she was far more useful to them outside of Zimbabwe's jails.

"I'll air out her room," he offered, rising from the chair, his half eaten food forgotten.

"I've already done it," Thando assured. "So you can sit and finish eating. Don't think I didn't see you skipping lunch."

Feeling a little deflated, but knowing better than to argue with his friend when he used that tone of voice, Bastien sank back into his chair, and speared a chunk of pumpkin, his mind too full of thoughts to even register that Thando had snuck cabbage onto his plate.

OOO

By the time the chicken was singing to Lihle's exacting standards, it was getting cooler, and the sky had exploded into a medley of pinks, blues and reds. They ate in the small garden, on a mishmash of chairs. Violett had returned home just five minutes prior to serving, and she, Becky and Andi had claimed the creaky wooden porch swing for dinner, and sat with plates on their laps, while Marina abandoned her host duties for two minutes to take photographs.

"You did hire a professional for the actual wedding, right?" Becky asked, as Marina began to upload the pictures to facebook. "Because you can't halt the service every five minutes to take selfies."

"She did," Violett assured her, as her mother huffed indignantly. "I made sure of it. And I've been coming back from uni regularly to check that she's not done anything silly."

She gave her mother a sweet smile, which prompted Marina to swat her on the shoulder.

"Which one of us is the parent, again?" she asked, pointedly, while Becky and Andi laughed over their lamb.

"At least you've only been down the road," Andi said. "I'll be three hours away from Mum and Dad next year, and with Becky moving out too who knows what they'll get up to without supervision."

"Uh oh," Becky's dad leaned over to his wife and whispered loudly. "They're on to us! Better cancel the house party, and move all the cannabis into the shed."

He got an elbow in the ribs, but Elize was trying not to smile in spite of herself.

"When do you move out, Becks?" Violett asked, squeaking as she accidentally dribbled pap down her chin. Chewing over her itinerary, Becky thought for a moment.

"About two days after we get back." She said. "I've seen the house - crashed there on Saturday actually. Judy moved out of halls last year so she's already living there."

"How are the girls?" her mother asked kindly. She approved of all of Becky's friends, and always asked after their wellbeing.

"Great. They all send their love." Actually, Emily had sung her love, loudly right in the middle of Carnaby Street, but her mother did not need to know that.

"Remind me what it is you do again?" Marina asked, her lips twitching at the corners through her mouthful of lamb. Becky rolled her eyes.

"Nice try Marina. I've told you all I can't say." She punctuated the statement by scooping up more food and shovelling it into her mouth.

"I still don't understand what sort of job requires an eighteen year old to sign a confidentiality clause," her mother muttered. The details of Becky's job - or rather, the lack of details - had bothered her since day one.

"The secret kind." Came the dry reply. The lies did not feel right on her tongue. She wasn't used to them. There had been no need to lie in Backwater - everyone who lived there knew who the Shadowchasers were, and what they were about. Secrecy was not necessary. Outside of that protected little town, the whole world needed shielding from her life. She found the sudden crushing weight of her secret hit her, like it hadn't done before.

"I still think she's working for the government," Andi whispered conspiratorially in Vi's ear.

"Definitely need to get rid of the cannabis then," her father muttered teasingly.

"Ignore them," Lihle put in, her voice firmly putting an end to the conversation. "They only make up stories because they wish their own lives were as interesting."

Marina snorted. "No thanks. I've already filled my excitement quota for my career!"

"Don't complain," Vi objected. "It got you a fiancé!"

"Still, I could live without having another guest die in my bathtubs, thank you!"

The conversation was calmly sidetracked, much to Becky's relief, and she sat back against the swing, as Marina began chatting about her work at the hotel, and the refurbishments due to take place in January.

On the other side of the house, a bike hummed into hearing range down the street.

"That'll be Ruan," Vi said, turning her wrist over to check her watch. "And what d'you know? He's home on time. Guess nobody else vanished today."

"Oi!" Marina scowled at her daughter. "It's not a laughing matter. I don't want any of you girls disappearing while you're here. If you go out together, you stick in groups - understand?"

Becky frowned - people vanished in South Africa every day, and it did not generate this level of caution. But any questions were curtailed as the front door was closed, and a pair of shoes were discarded with a thud by the entrance. "Hello?"

"Out the back, love!" Marina called. "Oh, and can you bring the wine from the fridge, on your way?"

"Only if you share it with me!" the feet padded through the kitchen, pausing at the fridge, before leading their owner out into the garden sunlight. Becky had seen pictures of Ruan before, via Vi on facebook, but she had never met him in person. He and Marina had met two and a half years ago, after the grisly death of a local celebrity in the Two Oceans hotel had brought the police investigating. As General Manager, it had been Marina's job to ensure that the business was kept running smoothly, in spite of Ruan and his officers traipsing all over her building. But in between trying to balance their conflicting interests, both detective and manager had developed a liking for one another, which had eventually turned into a romance after the case had closed and Ruan had worked up the nerve to ask Marina out for a drink.

Looking at him now, in the flesh, Becky could see why Marina liked him. Even at forty five, he had managed to retain most of his good looks. He had a strong solid build, no doubt from a life in the police, and an ease to his stride that she suspected put most victims of crime instantly at rest. A kind smile lit his eyes, and as he walked through the door and saw Marina, it turned especially warm. That more than anything reassured Becky once and for all, that this man was good enough for her.

"Sorry I'm late," he put the wine glasses and bottles down, before giving Marina a kiss on the cheek, though he directed most of his apology towards Lihle. The chef of the evening waved him off, and got to her feet.

"Budge up, dears. All the single ladies on the swing!"

"I'm not single!" Andi protested, pressing herself into the arm of the bench regardless.

"Yes, and I still want details of that, by the way," Becky informed her sister, sternly, wincing as she hip checked her cousin. It was a bit tight, but they managed to wedge themselves in, Becky leaning her head against her grandmother's shoulder once they were all settled. Having fetched his plate from the barbecue, Ruan took her vacated seat, balancing his plate on his knees.

"Okay, Ruan," Marina shifted forwards. "This is Becky. Becky, I'm sure you've guessed by now, that this must be Ruan."

"Really?" Becky grinned. "I thought he was here to serve us wine. You got my hopes up, Marina!"

Ruan laughed, and they both leaned forward awkwardly over their plates to shake hands, Becky accidentally elbowing Vi as she sat back.

"Did you skip lunch, again?" Marina asked with a reproving, but almost resigned sigh. Ruan's plate was stacked with a quarter chicken, a respectable portion of mutton, and a veritable rainbow of vegetables, with pap squashed precariously close to the edge of the plate.

"Had to. I was in court most of the morning, and then another three people disappeared from in front of a school in the Crossroads," he explained, spearing a chunk of chicken with a shard of pumpkin and beginning to eat. Marina and Vi exchanged looks, and Becky's mother made a gasp of sympathy.

"They weren't children, were they?" she asked, anxiously. Ruan snorted.

"No. Actually in this case it might have been a good thing. Eyewitnesses say it was three guys picking up a sixteen year old girl, who definitely wasn't related to any of them." He shot a dark look at his plate. "I have five eyewitnesses saying that one minute the four of them were driving a car, the next minute the car is in someone's house, and the three men have disappeared."

"You don't think that perhaps they just got out and ran away when they crashed?" Becky's father asked skeptically.

"No, it seems the crash was caused by the disappearance, rather than motivating it," Ruan explained. "Two parents, a teacher and the caretaker who witnessed it are supporting that statement."

"They can't seriously believe that people just vanish into thin air?" Andi's tone was scornful. "I know in some of the village people are still superstitious, but this is the city for crying out loud - let's have some common sense!"

"You'd be surprised," Becky corrected her sister thoughtfully. "Superstition isn't confined to small rural communities. In America your house can lose a third of its value if there is any history of it being haunted."

She neglected to mention that the house in the middle of downtown Lincoln that she had learned this from had actually been haunted.

"And remember," Vi added, as Andi groaned in exasperation. "South Africa still has an occult unit attached to its police force. That stuff still carries weight in this country."

Ruan sighed. "I'd kill right now to have the occult unit taking this case. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with the Shadowchasers cropping up at all my crime scenes."

It was a sheer fluke that Becky did not choke on her pumpkin. Instead she froze, her spine rigid against the swing, her fork still clenched between her lips. She relaxed only a fraction as she realised that the attention was firmly on Ruan's story, and not on her.

Or at least, most of the attention. A warm, slightly bony hand slipped into hers and gently squeezed it. Lihle had not been oblivious to her granddaughter's sudden tension, but she kept her gaze polite and in the direction of the conversation. Slowly, Becky let her spine curve back into the seat, and her breathing to start up again.

"Did they show up again?" Marina asked, clearly already knowing what the answer was going to be. For the first time that night, genuine irritation appeared on Ruan's face.

"Oh they didn't just show up this time - they were there first! One of the teachers thought that it would be a good idea to call them instead of the police! God knows why, and she definitely didn't feel like explaining it to me."

"Doesn't that count as obstruction of justice?" Becky's father asked.

Ruan shook his head. "My boss told me to give them access to the crime scenes and let them do what they wanted." His scowl became deeper. "It's corruption. I asked a few of my colleagues in special forces about them - trying to see if they're affiliated with anyone. The only person who knew anything was Jiri, and all he would tell me was that I didn't want to get involved with them."

It was taking all of Becky's self restraint not to jump to her organisation's defence. Each accusation was hitting her like a punch, and she was horrified to realise that there were tears brewing in the corner of her eyes. She had spent just over a year throwing herself into Shadowchasing, and doing good work that made her proud. And now she was being attacked and she could not even raise a word to protect the life that she had become a part of. Frustration and despair clawed inside her. Her grandmother's hand, which had never left hers, gave another grounding squeeze.

"Well, you're not the only one who had people getting in the way today," Lihle's voice was cheerful as she steered the topic away. "Elize and I went to meet Marina at the hotel for lunch, and we were almost run over by concierge carrying a racing car into the conference room."

As Marina launched into the full story of her day at work, Becky felt her grandmother's elbow nudge her gently, and she got up and followed her to the barbecue for seconds, all too aware that she had just dodged a very serious bullet, and even more acutely aware, that it was not going to be the last.

* * *

 **A/N:** Look at that. A regular update! And I beat 7th Librarian to it today! He'll have his next chapter up soon. He swears it on his ticket to see The Last Jedi next week.

It's still a bit early for me to do any Shadowchaser Files - plus I don't think I've introduced anyone who needs one yet. We'll see how we go. I do have some planned, so have no fear - they will be around.

Hope everyone has a lovely Christmas. In the mean time, review my pretties! Click the shiny button and review! You know you want to...


	3. Planning

**Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 3: Planning**

It was one of _those_ nights.

Bastien could feel it in his bones.

He should have called it a night about an hour ago. He was not obligated to sit around the central business district into the small hours of the morning. But every time he told himself he should go home and sleep, he would tell himself to wait another five minutes, just to _see_ if there was any trouble. Night time was the business hour for many Shadowkind - it was far easier to move around when ninety percent of Mundanes were in bed. Maybe a fight would break out nearby. Or one of the offices would be robbed. Or maybe he would get really lucky, and the sea witch that had plagued his thoughts since that afternoon would pop up.

 _Or maybe you just don't want to sleep, Bastien._

He groaned and shook his head. Perhaps Thando was right. Maybe he did need a break.

Still the thought of finally getting a lead on this case was too tempting to pass up, and he wasn't willing to sit tightly and wait for Vuyo to get here and start answering their questions. At the very least, this was a loose thread which he needed to tie up. And unlike the vanishing people, the sea witch seemed to be vaguely tangible.

Shifting his weight against his bike, his eyes darted down either end of Strand Street. Wedged in the grid between it and Wale Street, were a crisscross of roads, in which lived clusters of bars, clubs and other late night stores, some Mundane, but a large portion of them run by Shadowkind. If anything was going to happen tonight, Bastien would have put bets on it happening here. Rather than circle his bike around like a vulture hovering over a dying animal, he chose instead to sit, wait and listen. He would hear any trouble long before he saw it.

Trouble like that, he thought with a groan, as drunken shouting came floating down Loop Street. On closer inspection, he recognised the distinctive cadences of abyssal. Perhaps due to its long history of superstition, magic, and bloody human conflict, South Africa had seen its fair share of demons over the centuries, and remnants of those made up a not inconsiderable amount of the Shadow population. Not wanting to get involved with a rowdy gang right now, he slid himself and his bike quietly back into the shadow of a nearby archway.

Something musky and enticing wafted up to his nose, and a sultry voice breathed over his ear.

"You look lonely, Shadowchaser," the whisper crooned. "Company isn't that hard to find, you know."

"Evening Rana," Bastien replied, in a bored monotone, glancing over one shoulder to observe the dusky skinned woman perched on the end of his D-Wheel. "Slipped your leash again?"

The woman laughed, a heavy, husky noise that made the hair on Bastien's neck stand on end. Her tail coiled its way around the handle of the bike, flicking tantalisingly back and forth. "Literally. But then, nobody says I can't do a spot of...recreational activity on the side of my job."

"Hmm…" Bastien lifted a sardonic eyebrow. "So who's your current employer then?"

Another laugh. This time the tail began to trail teasingly up his arm.

"Wouldn't you like to know, babe. Wouldn't you like to know."

Bastien would dearly like to know. Rana had the dubious honour of being one of the most prolific succubi in Cape Town. From what he had been able to gather, there seemed to be a community of men in the city, who whether because of age, ugliness, or the prevalence of HIV in the country, preferred to engage the services of demons for their pleasures rather than go to the trouble of finding willing prostitutes. The circles were extremely exclusive, tightly connected, and finding any evidence against them was nearly impossible, as they tended to close ranks if one of them was accused. Bastien and Thando had been trying for years, but had never managed to pin anything concrete on them.

Rolling his eyes, Bastien shook the tail off before it could ghost further south. "Must be someone expensive if you're dressed like that." He nodded his head to the smart grey pencil dress that clung lovingly to her backside.

"We're more sophisticated than you might think," Rana said, seemingly unfazed by the way he had shaken her off. "I believe it was Belle de Jour who said that in a world of children in bikinis and grandmothers in fuck-me boots, the surest way to tell a prostitute is to look for the designer suit."

She ran a hand over her hip, smoothing out imaginary creases. "So, what's this I've been hearing about Shadows vanishing over Cape Town? That must be keeping you up at night…"

"I sleep perfectly well, thank you Rana," Bastien said curtly, going back to watching the street.

"Oh good," the succubus said. "So they're not true then." She sounded cheerful, but her question was leading, and Bastien narrowed his eyes in calculation, his attention completely gone from watch duty.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Simple curiosity?" Rana said, sighing when the Shadowchaser snorted in disbelief. "Self preservation? Come on Bastien, I'm not stupid. I just want to know if I should be worried that I'm going to vanish any time soon."

The tight dismissal was on Bastien's lips before an idea sparked in his brain, and a smile crept across his face instead.

"Well, if you must know Rana…" resting his forearms on his D-Wheel, he leaned over so that he could look directly at her. "They are true."

One perfectly plucked eyebrow lifted. "Interesting. Have you managed to narrow it down at all? Species? Gender?...previous sexual partners?" she added with a smile at the corner of her lips.

"Haha," Bastien deadpanned. "No. No shared traits, other than the fact that they are all Shadowkind. And we have no idea why they are vanishing."

"Poor you," she ran a painted nail up his arm, and this time he let her.

"I think you might know one of them," he said lightly. "Sarrelle?"

The nail froze by the crook of his elbow, and she scoffed.

"I know him," she acknowledged, folding her arms and pulling the pencil dress tight over her breasts. "Good at what he does I suppose, but I don't really understand the appeal of his methods. Waste of energy if you ask me."

Bastien's eyes darkened - Sarrelle's methods, on top of his usual array of demonic powers of seduction, included date-rape drugs, stalking, and sometimes outright abducting his prey from the streets, if he felt like giving himself a challenge. He swallowed his disgust, and carried on.

"He vanished earlier today, along with two half-fiends." He gave a shrug. "Now it could be that they just got themselves killed and popped off back to the Abyss, but obviously that's not something I can check."

"So you want me to do it for you?" Rana surmised. Her dry tone was not encouraging.

"It's for your own good too, Rana," Bastien said. "You said it yourself - you might need to be worried. If they're not in the Abyss, then this thing has got them too. And now we'll know for sure that it can grab demons. As you said - self preservation."

She chewed on this for a moment, her lips pouting and pursuing with each thought that ran around her head. Bastien leaned into his bike, giving her the space she needed to contemplate his proposal.

"I don't do things for free, Bastien," Rana said, eventually. "And what you're asking might provoke unwanted questions, if I'm found to be looking in places I should not."

"What do you want in return?" Bastien asked. Rana smiled, suddenly pleased with herself.

"I think I'll leave you guessing on that," she said. "Very well. I'll have a look for our erstwhile acquaintance."

"Good," still unsure as to what exactly he might have agreed to, Bastien stood up straight again. "When are you heading back to the Abyss?"

"I should be heading back tonight, once I'm done with my flabby American summoner," she nodded. Bastien knew that must mean that she had collected more than enough souls to make a discerning demon lord very happy. "I can't guarantee when I'll next be back in town."

Her smile became enticing once more. "Want to send me off in style?"

"No thanks, Rana," Bastien gently lifted her hand off his arm again. "I'm working."

"Spoilsport," the succubus pouted, pushing herself off the bike. "Oh well. There's a saying about absence and growing fonder. Maybe next time."

She blew him a kiss. "Take care, babe." And she swanned off down Bree Street, with a wriggle in her hips.

It took Bastien about thirty seconds to realise that he should stop looking at her butt now. The Shadowchaser shivered as a timely breeze effectively banished the heat that had crept up under his skin.

"I haven't had sex in thirteen months," he muttered to himself. "I should get a medal for that."

OOO

" _Told you you always forget something when you go on holiday."_

" _We found your hair straighteners - Terpy says they were down the back of the couch, but there are some_ very _stylish looking unicorns in Primwell that say otherwise!"_

" _Actually this is something I forgot to leave behind. My card for calling Shadow Games is still in my deck box! Do you guys want me to post it back?"_

" _Heck no! That's far too dangerous! Fayte and Tsuki will be in London in three weeks for their vacation - Rayearth says you can give it back to them then."_

" _Thanks Kenshin. Miss you guys. xxx"_

" _Miss you too. Now do yourself a favor and sleep!"_

Heaving a sigh which turned into a yawn, Becky rolled over, dragging the duvet with her. Her sleeping schedule was so badly fucked that it was not even funny. She was laying on the floor of Vi's room, in the shadow of her cousin's enormous bookcase. The futon was actually pretty comfortable, but after so many days of nonstop activity and movement, her brain was refusing to shut off.

She traced the bottom row of books with her finger, her nail clicking against the spines. Vi's taste in books was remarkably similar to Andi's, though her cousin was studying Civil Engineering, and her little sister favoured electronics and computers. Glancing over her shoulder at the double bed, she could see Andi on the nearest side, drooling into her short hair as she slept. While sleeping, she looked very like their mother, even though Becky knew that they both had their father's mind. For Andi, that meant putting things together. For Becky, that meant manipulating the world around her into something beautiful. Her fingers twitched. She needed to get hold of a camera or a paint brush soon, or she was going to go mad.

Restless, she silently lifted the covers away, and padded to the door, pulling a very large, black hoodie over her head. It was warm, comfortable, and bore the words "Press X To Not Die" in large letters, along with a big blue cross button. It had been a birthday gift from Kenshin, and in the spirit's usual habit of knowing bugger all about fashion, she had ordered it two sizes too big. Consequently it came down to Becky's thighs, and she had to roll the sleeves back in order to be able to open the door.

The spacious living room was empty, save for the ever watchful presence of the nine tarantulas. From the nearest bedroom, usually occupied by her grandmother, Becky could hear the telltale sounds of her father snoring. The door to Marina and Ruan's room was tightly closed. The sofa bed was empty, with blankets folded neatly at the end of it, which meant that Becky was not the only person awake. With a knowing smile, she crossed the room, passing the front door as she went, and turned into the kitchen.

Lihle was sat at the table, a large square tub of ice cream open before her, her spoon drawing large swirls in the chocolate. Framed against the moonlight, streaming in from the garden through the sliding doors, Becky could pick out the silver starting to streak through her hair, and she felt a surge of fondness for the older woman.

"Mum will pitch a fit if she sees you eating that," she greeted.

Lihle drew herself up imperiously, digging her spoon deeper into the ice cream tub. "My daughter has no say on what I do or eat in my own house, my girl."

Becky considered this for a moment, before nodding. "Fair enough."

Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, she sat down opposite, and dug it into the tub, watching it cut through the dairy with no small amount of childish glee. Her grandmother raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Becky shrugged. "You taught us all to share."

"Cheeky," came the admonishment, but there was a smile in there, and Becky stuffed the spoon into her mouth with a reciprocal grin. She moaned as the sugar hit.

"You have no idea how good it is to be able to eat chocolate again," she said.

"It's as bad as they say it is?" Lihle asked, tapping her own spoon impatiently against the tub. Becky obligingly relinquished it, while she thought of the best way to describe the taste.

"...if you mix badly ground chalk, with lard and a bit of sugar, you've got American chocolate," she declared. Pulling a face, her grandmother rose from the table.

"Better make this a feast then. I think there's some caramel sauce left."

"Oooh chopped nuts if we've got any!" Becky asked, abandoning the tub in favour of finding a bowl. "I'm craving something crunchy."

Three minutes later, they were sharing a sundae fit for a queen.

"The sofa isn't that uncomfortable, is it?" Becky asked, jabbing her spoon at the living room.

"It's perfectly fine," her grandmother assured her. "I just don't need half as much sleep as you young people. And the ladies and I are doing yoga every Tuesday - it's doing wonders for Rendi's back, and you'd be surprised how much more comfortable it makes sleeping."

She eyed her granddaughter shrewdly. "You should take up something like it when you get home - unknot those shoulders of yours."

With a wince, Becky massaged her neck. "Would be nice to stand in a gym studio instead of being thrown around it…"

"Training isn't meant to be easy. If it were, everyone would do it." Lihle stabbed the ball of ice cream with her spoon. "Nonetheless, take some time for yourself. There's enough stress in this house without you adding to it. Marina and the wedding. Ruan and these disappearances. Your mother...well, being herself."

Normally Becky would have chortled at the assessment, but her previous restlessness surged forwards at the mention of Ruan and the disappearances. It had been clawing at her mind all night like a little mouse trying to scratch its way out of her skull. Nothing Ruan had said was true, and she could not bear the thought of her family thinking it, even if they were ignorant of the fact she was a Shadowchaser…

A small, slender finger pressed her lips shut. Pouting around it, she frowned across the table. Lihle's expression seemed to stop her mind's frantic stumble towards the exit.

"No need to explain, dear." Her dark eyes were deep with understanding. Curiosity reared its head in place of defence.

"Really?" Lihle chortled and removed her hand.

"Didn't I used to tell you that grandmother's know everyone's secrets?" she licked the back of her spoon, a twinkle in her gaze. "I'm an old lady, Rebecca. Old people don't need to be told things. We just know. It's one of our many gifts."

Her smile was so knowing, so understanding, that Becky found her throat closing up. Just as they had earlier, fingers moved once more to stroke the mark on her face.

"My brave girl," pride was undisguised in her face and voice. The hand did not linger, slipping down to squeeze at hers, just as it had done earlier on the swing. "You're worried?"

She glanced at the table. "Upset more than worried."

"Oh sweetheart," Lihle patted her arm. "That's not worth worrying about. Are you happy?"

Swallowing hard, Becky nodded.

"Then why does it matter what Ruan thinks?" her grandmother asked. To her surprise, Becky found that no words were coming out of her mouth. "Why does it matter what any of us think? We have no right to tell you what you should and should not do with your life. So what if it involves secrets? Your job is not about secrets. It's about keeping others safe." She looked at her shrewdly. "And I'll bet that keeping others safe is exactly what makes you so happy about it, yes?"

The words were like a comforting blanket. In the last year and a half, ever since she had announced her career intentions, nobody had ever asked her if she was happy. They asked her if she was sure. If she knew what she was getting involved with. If it was real. If it was legal. If she was sure that there wasn't anything more she could tell them.

Her grandmother did not need any of that. She knew exactly what she was getting into. She knew that Becky's decision was informed. She trusted that her granddaughter was smart enough not to be tricked. And she knew that Becky was a good person who would never get involved in anything illegal. And most importantly, she seemed to know that there were some questions that she did not need to be discussed. There was only one thing that mattered to her.

She nodded again, and the uncomfortable knot in her throat seemed to vanish.

"Yes. I love it."

"Good," Lihle sat back, and pushed the bowl towards her granddaughter. "Now enough being maudlin. Eat up. Food makes everything better."

It took another few spoonfuls of ice cream before Becky felt the taste return to her. Her grandmother gave up eating and stretched a few times in her chair.

"Do tell me one thing," the older lady said, a fresh spark lighting her eyes. "Satisfy my curiosity...any handsome young men in your line of work?"

Becky rolled her eyes, feeling as though she were back on solid ground with such a normal question. "No Nana. I haven't had a boyfriend since sixth form. And I don't believe in dating my colleagues. Too much potential for awkwardness."

"Who said anything about these young men being for you?" Lihle asked indignantly. "I was talking about me! The only flirty wink I've had recently is from Supermarket Simon, and he's missing his teeth! I need something a little more virile! You had some young men around you in America? I remember you saying."

An exasperated smile decorated Becky's face. "Tsubasa is eighteen - there's virile, and then there's cradle snatching, Nana."

"Well what about the ones round our neck of the woods?" her grandmother was not budging. "The colleagues who have been taking care of your bike?"

Unintentionally, Becky's mind flitted over the grainy image of Thando on the screen of the D-Wheel, before conjuring up a picture of Bastien smiling at her from the arrivals lounge. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she buried her face into her arms as her grandmother cackled.

"Oh _excellent!"_ she forwent rubbing her hands together in favour of clearing up the empty ice cream bowl and spoons. "You can show me pictures tomorrow."

Groaning, Becky rested her head on the table. "Remind me to keep you away from the fizz at the wedding. I'm not sure Ruan's family can handle you on the pull."

"Oh please - from the interactions I've had with his uncle, they should be used to it! His mother is a high strung little madam though. She won't stop talking about what a wonderful man her son is, and how fortunate Marina is to have snagged him." She sniffed, unimpressed. "As if we couldn't possibly figure out ourselves that Ruan is a catch."

Drying her hands on the tea towel, she sat down again.

"So you like him?" Becky asked, curious. Her grandmother nodded.

"Before their fourth date, he arrived half an hour early at this house. He had two bunches of flowers - one for her, and one for me - and he was terribly nervous. He talked to me about my art. He told me a little about his family, and then about his job. And then he told me how he and Marina met."

Her gaze softened, taking years off her face, and Becky wondered, with a pang of sadness, if she were remembering her own experience of falling in love.

"He told me that he had enjoyed going to work each day because he had hoped he might see her on duty. He said that while he had been happy to close the case, and bring the family the closure they needed, he had been sad that he wouldn't have an excuse to see her again. And he knew he couldn't just let it pass. So he asked her out, and the scariest moment of his life, was that second where he thought that she might say no."

"But she didn't," Becky concluded. She had heard the basics of Ruan and Marina's story from Vi, but she did not know that Lihle had had a personal visit from the new beau.

"But she didn't," Lihle agreed. "And here we are. Ruan is a good man, Rebecca. You can trust me on this. But he is also a detective - he has to consider all angles in his investigation. Don't let what he says upset you. Remember - you are happy. That is all that matters."

How had her grandmother managed to teach her in ten minutes, what fourteen months of training had failed? She shook her head. She knew the answer to that. An outsider's opinion was the most valuable in the world sometimes.

"You're right," she nodded. "I won't let it get to me. I love my job. I'm sure Ruan probably does too. He just wants to do the best he can in it, and I respect that." Yawning, she rubbed her eyes. "No more fretting about work. I'm here to relax, explore the city, and my only job this week is to make sure Marina gets down the aisle without her clutter of spiders following her."

"Ohh that would upset Ruan's mother...let's do it!" Lihle exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "You smuggle the tanks in ahead of the service, and I'll attach little leashes to them before I walk Marina up the aisle."

Spluttering as another yawn tried to interrupt her laughter, Becky got up from the table. "We'll plan disruptions tomorrow, Nana. I'm going to try sleeping again. Thanks for the pep talk."

"Any time, my girl. Any time."

OOO

It was nearing two AM, and Bastien was wondering if he should start thinking about calling it quits.

The air was chilly, and the clubs were shutting down for the night. Being Monday night, the number of serious party goers were a little thin on the ground, but Shadowkind were remaining fairly consistent. Bastien had nodded politely to two groups that he was familiar with, in the last hour alone. And still, there was no screaming. No random flares of magic. No sign at all of a sea witch anywhere.

He leaned forward against his bike, drawing in another deep, chilly breath. His brain felt like an overworked hamster, treading circles on its wheel, each question revolving in the same tired fashion. Why would someone want to cause Shadowkind to vanish? Did they have some kind of grudge? Or perhaps a more malevolent use for magical creatures? And if this witch was the one causing Shadowkind to vanish, why had she changed her routine with the Stone Cutters, breaking into their home and doing damage, instead of just abducting them? Dvagar had agreed to check in with Bastien three times a day, just in case something did happen to them, but finding that puddle so close to what had appeared to be an innocuous crime scene, had made him decidedly uncomfortable.

He shook his head. Finding a motive would be helpful, but they still had to find out what happened to the missing Shadowkind - perhaps most importantly, if they were dead or alive. In a way, he hoped that Rana would come back and tell him that today's three vanishers were just back in the Abyss. At least then they would know that the Shadowkind were not just vanishing - they were being murdered. As morbid as it was, at least that might help narrow it down.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he did not notice the shadow creeping up through the archway behind him, clawed fingers pulling back, tension building in the arm for a painful strike.

He did smell it though.

Vaulting his bike with a single leap, he landed in the empty road, just as the fist collided with a crash of metal into his D-Wheel. The machine skidded with an agonising screech across the tarmac, coming to rest on the opposite pavement. Pulling his sword free, Bastien glared at the figure now framed in the archway, looking curiously between the Shadowchaser and the heavily scratched bike.

"Huh," he grunted, once his brain finally caught up to his action. "Heard me, didja?"

"No, I smelled you," Bastien corrected, mockingly. "Seriously Veno, take a bath. I'm sure it won't actually kill you."

He glanced around the street. Sure enough, he could see more figures emerging from the shadows. Some were crouched in doorways, while others slid from the darkness of the neighbouring buildings.

"Ah, the gang's all here," Bastien muttered, straightening his back and lowering his sword so that it came to rest at his side. "So where's your big brother, Veno? Or did you finally grow enough of a pair to leave the house without him?"

The half-fiend glared, making his unfortunate face look even more squashed than it already did. He flexed his claws angrily, and from his back, his stumpy looking wings seemed to bristle. "Fuck you."

"No thanks, you're not my type," Bastien replied. A quick scan of his surroundings tallied up seven thugs - all of them either half-fiends or tieflings. It also told him that he was completely surrounded. He cursed the hamster in his brain for distracting him, and raised his voice. "Come on Marko, I know you're there! Don't make me talk to your brother - his voice lowers the IQ of the entire city!"

A pair of clear, casual footsteps emerged from the other end of Strand Street, and Bastien turned to watch the newcomer. Where Veno's head looked as though it had spent several hours in a car compactor, Marko's was sharp, and wolfish to match the cunning of his mind. Bastien wasn't certain which devil they both called father, but the only thing he had contributed to his children was a set of small leathery wings, and an unrelenting taste for blood.

"Now that's a little bit cruel," the half-fiend said, his voice like that of a stern teacher, albeit one Bastien would never leave children alone with. "I mean he's standing right there."

Bastien's grip on his sword became just a little bit tighter, as the head thug reached the ring of muscle that now boxed him in. "Like Veno needs me to be rude to have an excuse for beating me up."

"True," Marko nodded. "You do that perfectly well just by breathing, Shadowchaser." He turned his body this way and that, eyeing up the protective barrier formed by his men, before returning his attention to his captive. "I heard an interesting little story today. Something about Sarrelle and two of his friends going missing at a school down in the Crossroads. Didn't think too much of it, until I heard rumours that your skinny boyfriend was down there checking the place out. Makes me wonder if there isn't something more to that little story."

Internally, Bastien cursed - how fast was the news travelling around this city? On the outside, he drew himself up a little more and gave Marko his most condescending look.

"If I did know anything about that disappearance, why the hell would I share it with you?" he asked.

"Rude," Marko shook his head. "Does your wife hear you talk like this? Oooh!" he recoiled dramatically, a sneer tickling his lips. "I am so sorry. Me and my big mouth!"

Anger coiled up through Bastien's gut, as the goons around him began to snigger. "Don't push me, Marko."

"Oh I know," the half-fiend's eyes were narrowed in glee. "Must have been _terribly_ sad for you." He glanced to his nearest henchmen, a small impish looking cambion who did not look old enough to be out of school, and slung one arm over his neck in a chummy fashion. "Our friendly neighbourhood Shadowchaser here used to be married," he said in a stage whisper. "Love, commitment and all that sweet stuff. Then one morning his wife's truck went over the edge of Victoria Road, and straight down into the sea..."

His fist mimed the vehicle soaring down into water with a splash while his mouth provided the sound effects, and the cambion giggled softly. Clenched by his sides, Bastien felt his own fists tremble.

"Official reports say that there was debris on the road and her tires were shiiiiit," Marko continued his explanation with a cheerful false sympathy. "Written off as an accident. But I heard little rumours that suggested otherwise. Have to say, I wouldn't blame her in the least. I mean, what's a sweet little Clueless to think when her husband keeps secrets from her?"

Rage boiled over in a flood, and Bastien rushed the half-fiend, his mind already plunging his sword down the other man's filthy gullet, Treaty be damned. Thick hands grasped him and he let out a yell of frustration, as he struggled against Veno's gorilla-like embrace.

"Oh I think I upset him," Marko said, with a mocking pout. "Have a hug Bastien - that'll make you feel miles better!"

"Go to hell!" the Shadowchaser snarled, pushing with all his might against the arms that bound him. Up close, Veno smelt even worse.

"Been there, done that," the half-fiend clapped the smaller cambion on the back and paced a few meters away. "Business is so much more lucrative up here. And more fun." He paused suddenly, and snapped his fingers. "Ah, business! Knew there was a reason I wanted to talk to you!"

He leaned casually against one of the pillars, before nodding sharply at Veno. The hulking monster of a man released him, and Bastien felt his bruised ribs flare as he took a grateful gulp of stench-free air.

"Here's the deal Bastien," Marko's voice was brisk and sharp - the playfulness of earlier had evaporated completely. "Borris here-" he jerked his head to the small cambion. "-is a newcomer to our little circle of friends. I want to see what he's made of."

"Great," Bastien grunted, repressing the urge to laugh at such a stupid name. "Is he going to break my kneecaps or my balls first?"

"Neither," Marko assured him. "He's going to duel you. Think of it as an initiation, if you will - bit like you and that mark on your face."

"This," Bastien jabbed a finger at his cheek, his glare going past Marko and fixing on Borris. "Is a badge of honour! You think you'll find that hanging around with these guys, kid? They're scum, and everyone knows it!"

Borris shrugged, apparently unconcerned. "If I was looking for honour, I'd have joined a church. We going to do this, or what?"

With a growl, Bastien turned toward the opposite pavement. "I'll need my-"

He staggered as one of the fiends wrenched his duel disk roughly from his capsized bike, and flung it straight at his ribs.

"Thank you," he said, trying not to wheeze. "So what happens if I win? Do I make an unfortunate trip into False Bay?"

Marko snorted, lounging lazily up against the pillar, with one ankle crossed over the other. "Unlike you Shadowchasers, I consider markings on my face to be more trouble than they are worth. And don't assume that you'll win - Borris claims to be very good."

 _Not as good as me_ , Bastien thought to himself, clipping his disk into place and flicking it on. Across the circle of flunkies, Borris was doing the same thing.

 **Life Points**

Bastien: 8000

Borris: 8000

"I'll start us of by summoning Horus The Black Flame Dragon LV4!" Black flames erupted in front of him, resolving into a horse-sized gleaming metal dragon. (1600/1000)

"Then I'll set two cards face-down and call it turn." Borris sneered as the cards materialized behind his dragon. "Come and get me, Shadowchaser!"

Bastien drew for his turn. "Not really my style." Shards of light flew into view in front of him and transformed into four brown-backed cards. "I set this monster and three cards face-down as well. Turn end."

"Running scared already?" Borris drew and held up another card. "Level Up does what its name says and gives Horus an upgrade to his LV6 form!" More flames spiraled around the dragon, seeping into its body. The body grew heavier, bulkier, more jagged until it was the size of a car. "Waste his monster with _Black FLames LV6!"_ (2300/1600)

Bastien shielded his face from the heat as the blast of fire incinerated his set monster and one of his set cards flipped up in response. "Since my monster had a high defense stat, Broken Blocker summons two more of it in defense mode."

Two red turles appeared in front of him, larger than he was and their shells actually grinning red jars. "Jar Turtles, to be precise." (100/2100)

"Kinda look like the Pot of Greed…"

"Jar of Greed, Borris. Jar of Greed. Like my trap card." The card flipped up and Bastien reached for his deck. "With each of them in play, I can draw one extra card for a total of three."

A second Jar of Greed flipped up. "With two, total of six cards. Still keeping up, Borris?"

"I can do math, but you don't get the rules!" Borris signaled to end his turn and Horus erupted into more flames, sending shadows flickering down the nearby streets. With a deepening roar, the dragon surged in size to a bus. "At LV8, Horus can negate any of your spell cards! So whatever draw power you want isn't going to help you!"

"Uh-huh. Sure." Bastien was not impressed, but several of the gang appeared to be. Even Marko had dropped the poker face to give an approving nod. The Shadowchaser drew for his turn, giving him a total of nine cards. "I sacrifice both of my monsters to summon Golden Muka Muka." The two turtles faded away, replaced by a man-sized crab composed completely of golden. Light sparkled off the precious stones and engravings embedded over its body and it snapped ivory pincers eagerly. (2000/2000)

"Your monster's pretty, but my dragon will melt it into a puddle!" Borris jeered, Horus screeching in agreement.

"Now you're the one who doesn't get the rules." Bastien held up his hand of eight cards. "My monster gets six hundred attack points for every card I have." The golden crab glowed, tripling in size in the space of a few breaths until it dwarfed even Horus. (2000/200 - 6800/2000)

"Oh…." Borris' curse was was cut short as the crab scuttled forwards and sheared off Horus' head with a sharp pincer snap and an ugly squelching sound. Black blood gouted from the headless body until both it and its head mercifully shattered.

 **Life Points**

Bastien: 8000

Borris: 4200

"In case you were wondering why your set cards didn't activate, its because Golden Muka Muka prevents you from chaining if I have more than six cars in my hand. Speaking of which, I set one of those cards face-down and discard the remaining one because it's the end of my turn." Bastien did so. "Your move, Borris." (6800/2000 - 5200/2000)

"And I'm going to stuff that crab so far up your ass, you'll be spitting rubies!" Borris swore and snapped up his card.

"Yeah, I don't fancy that," unfazed, Bastien activated his set card. "I activate Ring of Destruction."

A black metal ring appeared around the crab's pincer, ringed with grenades. "Now we both take damage equal to its attack points."

The explosion rocked the alleyway, shards of Golden Muka Muka scattering everywhere and causing the spectators to reflexively shield their faces. Bastien did the same, even as the smoke filled the space. But he still heard the distinctive 'ding!' of a duelist's life points hitting zero.

 **Life Points**

Bastien: 3800

Borris: 0

The smoke cleared, to reveal Borris laying in a crumpled, twitching heap on the ground. Feeling more than a little smug, Bastien switched his duel disk off.

"Guess you're not made of much, are you?" he asked, frowning as he saw Veno and the others closing in on his opponent. "Hey!"

He did not know why he was surprised. As he began to sprint across the field, four of the gang were already pouncing on Borris, two hoisting him up by his arms and another seizing him around the shoulders, while the fourth one began to rain blows down on his stomach. As the street began to fill with cries of pain, Bastien turned out of his run to block a strike from the left. Before he could go for his sword however, a heavy fist hit him in the back of the shoulder and sent him stumbling forwards into the first attacker. Another blow hit him in the stomach, followed by the back of the knees, leaving him gasping for air on the ground. All the while, Borris continued to scream.

"Hold him still," Marko was walking, and Bastien hissed in pain as two pairs of clawed arms seized his shoulders and hauled him up. "Not him, you idiots!"

"Oh, sorry boss."

They dropped him heavily, leaving his nose to collide with the tarmac with a painful crack. Bastien's head was reeling, and as he tried to focus through it, he vaguely saw Veno. The monstrous demon had grabbed hold of Borris's wings, and was yanking them sharply upward to keep him from escaping. Still held by both arms, the cambion struggled like a landed fish, as the other men backed away and Marko approached, flexing his fingers like he was limbering up to paint.

"Marko…" Borris's word was slurred, as blood dribbled out from between his lips. The sharp face held none of the chumminess that it had earlier.

"Only my friends call me that."

With a contemplative eye, Marko dug one clawed fingernail into Borris's chest, and began to tug, the flesh yielding with a sickening noise to the razor sharp digit. Borris screamed as layer by layer the claw was dug deeper and deeper. Paralyzed to the ground by his aching limbs, Bastien could only watch as the ribs were forced apart with a thumb and forefinger, finally giving way with two sharp cracks. Probing fingers swirled around the fresh cavity, before grasping hold of their treasure, and pulling it free with a fresh squelch. Blood was running down Marko's hand, and the heart clasped in his claws gave a few feeble final beats, as though trying to struggle free. Borris gave one last gurgling shriek, before he fell limp into Veno's grasp. The three henchmen tossed him to the ground in disgust.

Admiring his handiwork, Marko tossed the beating muscle to one side, before fishing in his pocket for a handkerchief, and starting to clean his hands.

Bastien could taste blood in his mouth, and he fought the urge to throw up. Shakily, he tried to rise, but one of his attackers kicked him hard in the ribs. He crashed back into the tarmac, as the attention turned back to him.

"Want to leave him out for the crows too, bro?" Veno asked maliciously. Catching his breath, Bastien groaned and rolled onto his side. The road was blurring in and out of focus in a sickening fashion.

"...nah, I'm bored now," he could picture Marko shrugging. "And my face is too handsome for imprints. Let's get out of here."

Bastien had just enough time to see the half-fiend's foot swing, before pain exploded across his head, and blackness overtook him.

When he came to, the thumping from the nearby clubs had gone, and the city was completely silent. The blood from his nose had crusted over his mouth and chin unpleasantly, and his ribs, stomach and shoulder were pounding like someone was whacking them repeatedly with a sledgehammer.

Growling, Bastien rolled onto his uninjured side, and pushed himself onto all fours. Marko and his gang were gone as was Borris's body. The heart lay abandoned not far away, the only evidence of what had transpired.

"When I'm feeling less like shit," the threat rumbled from Bastien's mouth, and he tasted blood again. "You're going straight to the darkest cell in Shadowchasers HQ, Marko…"

Wincing, he staggered to his bike. Fortunately the damage was only cosmetic, and she started just fine. He held himself steady for a moment, fantasising all the ways he was going to make Marko pay, before a strange feeling in his back pocket revealed the final insult of the evening.

"Fuck!" Bastien snarled, as he realised that they had taken his wallet.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading guys! And special thanks to those of you who take five minutes to review - gives me all of the happys!

Next time I post, I will be a married woman! FYI, 7th Librarian and I will accept reviews as wedding gifts - this information comes a bit too late to Occam's Razor, who has already bought us a teppenyaki grill. You rock so hard, dude!


	4. Venue

**Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 4: Venue**

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakens!"

Stumbling into the kitchen in a pair of sleep shorts, and a thin t-shirt, Bastien glared across the table at his colleague. "It's only ten Thando, so you can shut it."

"No way. I wasn't the one who slipped out of the house late last night, and apparently stayed up until the small hours," Thando tossed the morning paper on the table, narrowly avoiding upsetting the honey. "So was it business or pleasure? Please tell me you met a lovely girl last night, and that's the reason for your dishevelled state?"

Remembering the full sum of his late night jaunt, Bastien offered a half grimace. "I bloody wish."

He sat down with a wince, and Thando's eyes narrowed in on his side. Noticing the arm folding, and stern face, Bastien sighed and lifted his shirt. The foot-shaped bruises had faded thanks to a few healing potions, but the impact zone was still tender and green as it continued to knit itself back together.

Thando offered a few choice words in Xhosa. "What the hell did you do to yourself?" he demanded, as soon as he had finished swearing.

"I didn't!" Bastien exclaimed, dropping his shirt and reaching for the coffee. "Marko and his little gang of idiots did it."

Frowning, Thando rose from the table and went to the bread bin. "Talk." He ordered, pushing four slices down into the toaster. By the time they were crisp and covered in marmite, Bastien had recalled his clandestine meeting with Rana, and his run in with Marko and his heavies. Thando had listened quietly, only breaking the explanation to go to the bathroom and come back with a tube of cream to help take the last of the bruising down.

"You're an idiot," he declared eventually, as Bastien started dabbing the smelly medicine around his nose.

"You what?"

"You went out at midnight, in the middle of the city, right outside where you know there to be heavy Shadow nightlife, by yourself to hunt down a witch?" Thando deadpanned. Bastien winced. When he put it like that, it did sound stupid. And hadn't he been doing his best before Rana showed up to convince himself that this was a lead worth following?

"You're right," he sighed, suddenly too tired to deny his own idiocy in the harsh light of day. "It was stupid. I just couldn't stop thinking about it, and I thought maybe if I did something I could get some sleep."

He sounded so pathetic to his own ears, and he quickly distracted himself by rubbing cream onto his side.

"There are pills you can take for that," Thando said, sitting down again and resting his arms on top of his newspaper, so that his elbow was obscuring the face of a certain politician. "In the future, call me when you decide to go out on a little jaunt? Especially before you let a load of thugs fuck up your face."

"You were asleep," Bastien mumbled. "I didn't want to bother you just because I was restless."

"When you get your internal organs rearranged by Marko, I'd rather you woke me," came the pointed response. His friend picked up an untouched piece of toast and took a bite, only to pull a face as he realised that he had picked up a marmite slice.

"It might have been worth it," Bastien said quietly, dropping his t-shirt back into place and recapping the medicine. "If Rana can at least confirm whether or not Sarrelle and his friends were kidnapped or killed we can at least narrow it down…"

Finding the correct piece of toast, Thando chewed it slowly. "Marko isn't going to be happy if he finds out you've got Rana running errands for you."

Bastien frowned thoughtfully. "Hmm...I guess he might be a bit pissed if he hears a fellow demon is helping out a Shadowchaser, but it's none of his business, so as long as she's discreet-"

"...you do know he's her pimp, right?" Thando interrupted, his voice filled with disbelief. The tube of cream slipped from Bastien's hand, and came close to plopping into his second cup of coffee.

"You're kidding?" he asked.

"Is this my kidding face?" Thando asked, dropping his toast back onto his plate and leaning forwards. "I thought I told you? Last time I was in Blue Downs - when you went away for your sister's wedding - Mesha was having problems with Veno, and me and Astra went to check on her. She told us everything she knew about how Marko operated. How Mundanes find him. Who some of his top clients were…"

Straining his memory, Bastien groaned, as vague echoes of that very conversation fluttered back to him like skittish butterflies. "I was so hungover after that weekend." He shook his head. "I probably wasn't listening. Sorry."

He got an eyeroll, and Thando went back to his toast. "Well either way, he is going to go ballistic when he finds out that one of his favourite succubi is helping you. Especially since I'm guessing you're not in his good books after last night."

"Great," Bastien groaned, sitting down at the table, and tearing the nearest piece of toast in two. "Wonderful. When I get my hands on that fucker, I'm going to kill him. I don't care if it gets me in trouble - it'll be bloody satisfying."

"Well you might want to send him a thank you card first," Thando remarked. "I think he straightened your nose out for you."

"Shut your face!" Bastien was laughing in spite of himself. As Thando chuckled at his friend's expense, the doorbell rang, and the tall black man slid out of his seat to answer it. Picking up a piece of toast, and his coffee, Bastien made his way into the living room, trying not to aggravate any of his injuries.

Hoping that Jalal would not choose this moment to pop in and find his Shadowchaser bruised and in a state of undress, Bastien found the second phone in the house flashing with an unread message. A quick button press revealed a short terse voice, requesting either one of the Shadowchasers presence urgently in Newlands Forest. Wondering what on earth they had done to earn the irritation of the elves now, Bastien erased the message, and wandered over to the pinboard, tracing his fingers over Table Mountain.

The pins stuck out like little flags, random and confusing. Gently, he ran one hand down the mountain, past the pins, and down towards the Stone Cutters. Even if you added the break in to the map of crime scenes, it did not add any revelations, or create any sort of pattern. As his fingers trailed up over the mountain, Bastien frowned at the little pin hole in the paper, and began to count the red markers. Two of them were missing.

Something tingled at the edge of his senses, before a cloud of feathers burst into existence over the coffee table, fluttering down and disappearing before they touched the floor, leaving a single brown one, about the length of Bastien's forearm, floating in the middle of the room. Heart sinking, Bastien left his plate by the map, and went to take it. It was light and soft in his hand, but he knew its owner was anything but.

"New cards are here!" Thando appeared, carrying a signed package under one arm. "About time! I thought the DHL boys had seen them and kept them for themselves."

"Hey Thando," Bastien readjusted the feather and coffee mug in his hand, and pointed to the map. "Where did these two pins go? Stalatee Duru and Teybrin Kenath?"

"Oh yeah!" Thando snapped his box cutter open in lieu of fingers. "Astra called at about seven from Pretoria - you know she's covering some of Dani's haunts this week? They're not missing - at least, not in the same way the rest of these guys are. Apparently these two heard about the missing Shadowkind and thought that it would be a great cover."

"Cover for what?" Bastien frowned, taking a sip from his mug.

"Eloping."

Coffee came spurting out of Bastien's nose, and Thando gave an amused smile.

"Yeah, that was my reaction too," he agreed, pulling out the carefully wrapped trading cards. "Astra found Mr and Mrs Kenath moving in their new house on Chopin Street in the small hours of this morning. Apparently they knew that their families would not approve, so they decided to run away and hope that everyone would think that they had vanished."

Scoffing, Bastien chose to sit down to consume the rest of his coffee. It felt safer. "An elf and drow? No, I can't imagine their families would approve! Did you let them know?"

"Yes, while you were flopped in bed with a face like a peach that's been dropped on the floor," Thando teased. "I was out breaking the news to both sets of parents. The drow didn't give a toss - their men run off all the time apparently - but Stalatee's mother went nuts. I thought she was going to tear me a new one for daring to bring her such news about her precious daughter. As of about two hours ago, I'm persona non grata to the entire Newlands elf community - particularly now that I've told them it's not a kidnapping if she consented to it, and no, I can't go and force her to come back."

"Ahh…" Bastien nodded, as the two pieces of information connected. "That's why Gelehrin sounded so irritated just now." Seeing Thando's alarmed expression, he explained. "She left a message. They want one of us to head to Newlands as fast as possible. Something big must have happened in the last hour. Perfect chance for you to get back in their good books."

"You want me to go and speak to the community, who just threatened to pull my intestines out through my ears?" Thando asked dryly. "Not a chance in hell."

"Well either you go and see the elves, or you go and see Xicerine," Bastien said, holding out the huge feather and twirling it in a circle through the air. "He's summoned us too."

Thando swallowed hard, and his left hand rubbed at the right sleeve of his t-shirt, where thin ribbons of scar tissue were just visible beneath the cotton. "Elves please!" he said quickly, and Bastien grinned.

"Thought you might say that." He gulped the rest of his coffee, and shoved half of the toast in his mouth. "Leave my cards on the side there. I'd better go find my boots."

"You sure you're okay to go on a hike?" Thando checked, though he did not sound enthusiastic to trade anymore.

"My legs feel fine now," Bastien replied, leaning into the kitchen far enough to place his mug on the counter by the sink, before heading for the stairs. "But I'll take the cable car up anyway. I need to call someone first."

"You're taking company?" Thando asked, before realisation dawned, and he grinned. "Ah our pretty British visitor? Maybe there's hope for you yet."

He let out a shriek, as the rest of Bastien's half-eaten toast was tossed at him, the Marmite leaving a sticky stain on his t-shirt.

OOO

"Hey pretty lady. Fancy a match?"

With the most scornful look imaginable on her face, Becky gave the would-be flirt a glare. "Not with you."

Turning a cold shoulder on the young man, the Shadowchaser went back to projecting a steady gaze at the duelling field. The indoor arena was busy, mostly with university students, and the atmosphere was loud and rowdy. On field three, Andi and Vi were tossing banter and attacks back and forth across the field, monsters coming and going as they threw everything they had at each other. Both girls were about equal in skill, and Becky had a feeling that this would be one of those matches where the deck ran out before life points did.

Wincing as Andi was struck by the full force of Majestic Mech - Goryu, Becky spun her straw around in her coke, wishing that she could get more excited about watching duels. Nobody was playing badly, but the novelty of watching other people had worn off an hour ago. Three of Vi's friends had joined them around the table, but two were now duelling, and the third seemed more interested in having conversations on Twitter than with real people. Not to mention that every man in the area seemed to have a homing switch in their brain flicked firmly into the 'on' position, which required them to gravitate towards the large group of women for a flirt.

Part of her really wanted to take her bike and take off for a look around the city - maybe even up the mountain. But that was not going to happen. Vi had bookmarked today for duelling, and she and Andi had already hiked up Table Mountain on Sunday, and were not that eager to do it again.

Apparently unperturbed, the young man leaned casually against the table, almost upsetting her drink, looming over her like some kind of messiah. "No need to be scared. I'll go easy on you."

The urge to throw something was overwhelming, and Becky reluctantly returned her attention to her admirer. He might have been reasonably attractive had he not made the mistake of opening his mouth.

"What a shame to see chauvinism hasn't quite been bred out of this country since my last visit," she replied, leaning back in her seat and folding her arms, hoping that the refusal to play was quite clear. Across the table, Vi's friend Kayla seemed to surface from Twitter for a brief breath of fresh air, her eyes darting over to the man and frowning as they tried to recall when he had appeared.

"C'mon babe, don't be like that," fingers casually drifted over to Becky's arm, and she tensed, waiting for the first tickle of contact that would be all the permission she needed to break his fingers. A voice interrupted barely a hairsbreath from that sweet moment.

"Fuck off Morgan. The junior fields are on the other side of the building," helpfully, Kayla jerked a finger over the young man's shoulder. "That's in that direction, in case you were wondering."

Scowling, Morgan muttered something in Afrikaans at the pair of them before turning and slouching away. Kayla shouted an equally rude reply at his back before going back to Twitter with a glower, apparently having fulfilled her quota of verbal communication for the next hour.

Wondering if a few rounds of Angry Birds would help kill time until Andi and Vi finally wiped each other out, Becky jumped a foot in the air as her phone made the decision for her, vibrating sharply against her butt. Her curiosity immediately began to jump up and down in excitement as she saw the caller. She had told him to get in touch if anything exciting happened, but she hadn't expected it to be this quick. Someone up there was clearly listening to her.

"Good morning, Bastien," she greeted, a smile coming to her face naturally as the anticipation grew.

"Good morning to you too. Are you busy today, or do you fancy a trip to meet a crotchety old roc?"

A rush of adrenaline instantly pounded through her body. "Are you serious?" she asked, hoping that she did not sound too childlike.

"I am," Bastien seemed to find her reaction endearing rather than weird. "Thando and I got summons about ten minutes ago, so it must be important."

"Ooh now I'm definitely intrigued," Becky said playfully. "Alright. Where do you want to meet? Vi dragged us into Rosebank, but I've got my bike."

"Of course," Bastien teased. "I can't imagine you being parted from your baby for a moment. Alright. I'm almost presentable after last night. Can you meet me at the lower cable station in half an hour?"

Becky wondered what on earth had happened last night to make him un-presentable, and she made a mental note to ask. "Tafelberg Road, right? I'll see you there!"

She hung up, and resisted the urge to punch the air in glee. Instead she swept her bag out from under the table, pausing to untangle it from her sister's strap. The sight of it killed some of her excitement, and her eyes were drawn back to the field, for an entirely different reason.

 _Argh, stupid guilt,_ she cursed herself. _I'm not the kind of girl who ditches her sister and cousin for a cute guy and a magical bird…_

Out of the corner of her eye, a figure was swaggering towards the table, and Becky's gaze snapped to it, her heart sinking as she registered another man with a can-do gleam sweeping the table.

 _...unless there's another flirt approaching the table._ She amended. _All yours, Kayla!_

Sliding swiftly out of her seat, she hurried toward the exit. Predictably, Kayla did not even seem to notice that she had gone, her eyes still glued to her phone. Letting her guilt resurface for just a moment, Becky began typing on her own screen, and fired off a text to Andi and Vi, explaining that she had gone for a drive. They would get it when they finished their match - which at the rate they were going, would be a long time yet.

The sun was high overhead, and the warmth crept up her neck as she crossed the parking lot. Her bike was sharing a space with Vi's truck and she tried not to feel guilty any more about leaving. If they ran out of matches, the plan was to head over to the university campus to hang around for a while, something which Becky had no interest in doing. She could not shake the feeling that their cousin was under secret instructions from their mother to show both girls what fun higher education was - not that Andi needed any more persuading, having already filed her UCAS applications a month ago.

Instead, she let excitement bubble away as she pulled out of the lot and back onto the motorway. Being back on the road was a thrill in and of itself, and the fact she was meeting up with Bastien to see a real live roc was only adding to it.

Tafelberg Road was on the opposite side of the mountain to the duelling arenas, and required Becky to drive back through the city centre. Awake and appropriately excited this time, she slowed down long enough to enjoy some of the estates and the beautiful homes that she came across. This deep in the city, the number of vehicles thinned out compared to the suburbs, as Cape Town's transit service took the lion's share of transport.

The mountain snuck up on her as she turned off the main road and up the smaller, winding one that snaked its way up. Below her, the city began to grow outwards like a carpet the higher she got, and by the time she reached the lower cable station, the view was positively distracting, and it took her a moment to tear her eyes away and locate her colleague. To her relief, Bastien had saved a parking space, his bike looking slightly lost in the gap that lined the road, as it was meant for a larger vehicle. She slid in next to it gratefully.

"Excellent choice for a rendezvous," she greeted, tugging her helmet off and frowning as she properly took in her companion's face. "What happened to your nose?" she asked, before blushing, as she realised how rude that must sound.

"Long story," Bastien said, with a slightly pained grimace. "I guess it's still noticeable then?"

Sliding off her bike, Becky eyed his face critically. "Well only to someone who saw you yesterday. Your nose suddenly got straighter, and you're looking a little yellow around it." She gestured.

"Huh, guess Thando was right, I do owe Marko a thank you," Bastien muttered, turning and gesturing to the cable car. "How about I explain it on the way up?"

Under normal circumstances, Becky would have been all too easily distracted by the pretty scenery as their car slid out of the station, and began its slow climb up the side of the green rock face. Table Mountain loomed over the bowl to the north, and as they rose, more and more of the city came into view, lovingly cradled in the ocean's grasp. Both Shadowchasers were elbowed away from the cable car windows by enthusiastic Chinese tourists, who snapped photographs and talked loudly to each other in spite of only being a foot apart. Part of Becky bemoaned the loss of pictures, but at least it meant that nobody was listening as Bastien began to explain the tale of his fight with a demon named Marko.

"He ripped out Borris's heart?" she pulled a face. "I knew demons had issues, but jeeze. That can't have been fun for you to watch."

"Wasn't how I planned on spending my evening, no," came the dry smile. A Chinese tourist elbowed Becky in the ribs, and she jumped with a hiss, before sliding closer Bastien and lowering her voice.

"Did they get you anywhere else?"

"Yeah, they got my wallet before they sodded off," he rolled his eyes. "I had to reset all my accounts this morning, so don't be surprised if I suddenly break off talking to Xicerine to answer the phone. It's probably the bank."

Becky frowned. That had not been what she had meant, but she was starting to get the impression that Bastien did not like bothering anyone with his problems (unlike Tsubasa, who whined when he got a bruise). If she was going to guess, a lot more had been injured than just his face, but she couldn't force him to tell her, and she was far too polite to ask him to disrobe just so she could see where else he had been kicked or punched.

Not that the thought of asking Bastien to take his shirt off didn't have some other merits too. She was only human.

"On the plus side," he continued. "I managed to contact someone who might be able to give me some information. If I'm lucky."

"Hope it's worth it," Becky commented, taking another glance at his face. "What were you doing hanging around the city centre at two in the morning anyway?"

He sighed. "Chasing a lead. That break in that I ditched you for?" Becky nodded, remembering the phone call. "Well nothing was taken. They just tore the place up. I asked the guys if they'd seen anything odd recently and the only thing was this."

He pulled out his phone and with a few button presses, was presenting a photograph to her. Squinting, Becky could only divine the silhouette of a woman, standing on what seemed to be a coast road. "I'm guessing this wasn't a premature Halloween costume?"

"Nope," came the solemn shake of Bastien's head. "At first I thought it was probably just another bored Shadowkind trying to cause trouble, but then I went outside and found a great big puddle of seawater."

"...so a bored sea-dwelling Shadowkind?" Becky suggested. She got another head shake.

"This has been going on for almost a month now. Shadowkind are just vanishing into thin air, and the only strange thing we've been able to find at the crime scenes is a large puddle of what seems to be ordinary seawater."

The words drifted into a dark corner of Becky's mind and stirred a recent memory. "My family were talking about that last night - that's where Thando was at the Crossroads yesterday, right? Three men trying to drive off with a teenage girl, and vanished behind the wheel."

"Try three demons," Bastien stated. "But yeah, that was another one. I dropped samples of the water off with our local biologist, but all she's been able to tell me is that it's regular seawater from the bay."

Folding her arms, Becky leaned as best she could against one of the poles. "So how many have vanished?"

Pursing his lips, Bastien sighed as he mentally crunched the numbers. "With the three yesterday, minus two runaways who showed up this morning...nineteen that we know of. The police only know about twelve of them though. Shadowkind communities are pretty secretive down here."

A shiver of apprehension went down Becky's spine. "And you think this figure in the photo is causing it?"

Bastien shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe she just has some beef with the Stone Cutters and isn't related to this at all. But it's the only lead we've had in the last few weeks, so I headed into the city to see if anyone had seen her."

"Why would someone want to make Shadowkind disappear?" Becky asked. "They're all different species -" she waited for Bastien to give a nod of confirmation before continuing. "-so it doesn't sound like a revenge plot."

"No, and no demands have been issued," Bastien added. "I'm hoping our local Incantifer can provide us with some more information, otherwise, I haven't got a clue."

The cable car came to a stop with a loud clank, causing Becky to clang her head against the pole. The Chinese tourists elbowed their way out eagerly, leaving both Shadowchasers to press themselves into the wall, and Becky to growl as some inconsiderate person trod on her foot.

"Never stops being tourist season in South Africa," Bastien said dryly, taking another step back and allowing the last of the passengers to vacate. "Come on. Better do this while they're distracted by the view."

The restaurant and shop seemed to have had a fresh coat of paint, but other than that the mountain summit had not changed much from Becky's last visit. The plateau stretched out around them, inviting tourists to explore along its crevices and scrubby bushes, and to take selfies with the wonderful view below.

"Think he's down there…" her companion speculated, nodding towards the south end of the mountain.

"How can you tell?" Becky asked. Grinning, Bastien rummaged through his rucksack, and withdrew a beautiful long brown feather. Twirling it between his fingers, he scanned the area with an appraising eye.

"Magic," he said simply. "Can't you feel it?"

Branching out her senses, Becky shivered. The entire mountain seemed to be radiating power to her - the subtle, strong caress of a slumbering creature rolling over in its doze. But after a moment, her focus sharpened, and she could feel what he was talking about. Something powerful, and wholly unpleasant was waiting for them at the end of the plateau.

"Yeah, think I've got him," she muttered dryly. Bastien chuckled, and squeezed her shoulder.

"Yeah, he's not friendly," he agreed, replacing the feather in his bag. "Don't worry though. He summoned us here, so that usually means we're safe."

Becky was tempted to question his use of the word 'usually', but the cluster of Chinese tourists were fanning out behind them, and both Shadowchasers began to move towards the end of the trail.

The walk was slow, as both of them picked their way over the uneven surface, until the tourists began to thin out. Becky was relieved that she had worn sensible shoes.

 _The things we do for this job_ , she thought dryly, stifling a chortle as Bastien stumbled over on one ankle.

"I am graceful," the South African Shadowchaser declared, regaining his footing.

"Sure you are," Becky smirked. "Way to impress the giant magical bird with your superior poise."

"Hey I had my ass kicked last night," Bastien reminded her, finding the shoelace that was responsible for his fall. "Cut me a break."

Shrugging, Becky left him to re-tie his shoelace into something more secure, taking a few steps closer to the edge of the mountain. The great city sprawled out beneath them, and the Atlantic Ocean stretched as far as the eye could see. A curious smile materialised on her face - not the childlike wonder of someone who was experiencing something new, but a fond reminder that had just snatched her breath away for the second time in her life.

"Wow…" she whispered, as Bastien approached. Her eyes were sparkling as they took in the miles of clear sky. She had missed her home country.

"You've been up here before, right?" Bastien asked, folding his arms and trying to see what she was seeing. Glancing out of the corner of her vision, Becky saw his eyes drifting automatically to the ocean, licking languidly at the coast. His mood became instantly sombre.

"Yeah," she nodded. "When I was thirteen. Felt like I was on top of the world."

The wind played warmly around her face before suddenly warping into a sharp icy stab. Beneath her thin jacket, Becky shivered.

"That'll be Xicerine getting restless," Bastien remarked, rubbing at gooseflesh on his arms.

"Well he can wait," Becky said, a streak of imperiousness appearing in her voice. "I'm sure he's old enough to have grasped the value of patience."

The moroseness that had been sitting on Bastien's face suddenly vanished into laughter. Lips twitching, Becky folded her arms and went back to surveying the city.

"How many Shadowkind are down there?" She asked, scanning the streets down the east side of the mountain that vanished into the vast green of the forest.

"I doubt anyone knows for sure," Bastien admitted. "I'd guess close to a thousand."

 _They could all have vanished too in a few months_ , Becky realised with another shiver that had nothing to do with the sudden cold. The city was so large and vastly populated that she wondered how many mundanes would even notice if that many people disappeared one day.

 _They'd never know what they were missing._

The thought saddened her terribly.

"Wanna be a real tourist and take a selfie?" Bastien was grinning playfully, as he jerked his head toward a group of American tourists who were loudly trying to attach cameras to selfie sticks. A laugh bubbled up from beneath Becky's sudden melancholy, and she wondered if Bastien had done that on purpose.

"Hey don't judge my sudden appreciation for beautiful surroundings," she wagged a finger. "I just spent thirteen months in a state where a speed bump is considered a bit steep. I'm allowed to get a bit awestruck."

Still, she pulled herself away from the edge, and they both continued their walk. Now was not the time to get maudlin, and that general feeling of irritation at the other end of the plateau was not going away. They paused as two children raced by, chasing each other with loud shrieks of delight. The closer they got, Becky's excitement began to ebb, and she started to wonder if this had been a good idea.

"Is that really going to be far away enough?" she asked. The veil could hide some things, but she was still finding it difficult to fathom the other tourists missing something as big as a roc landing on one end of the mountain.

"It'll be fine," Bastien assured her. "Xicerine hates people - he won't show himself if they're too close to us."

Apparently all of the humans were a suitable distance away, for no sooner had Bastien finished his statement, when the wind suddenly picked up again behind Becky, and she wrapped her arms around her body, trying to fend of shivers as they closed the last few meters to their destination. Sitting comfortably on a flat spread of rock, surrounded by bits of vegetation, the camouflage was remarkable, and it was only when a large head twisted in their direction that it suddenly became obvious just where and what they were looking at.

Becky gulped. Her previous estimates of a Boeing 747 had been grievously conservative. With his wings spread, Xicerine was bigger than the largest dragon imaginable, and she could see why they often warred against each other for territory. His feathers were a beautiful mosaic of colour, a dusty brown on his belly, branching out to chocolate and gold along his wings. Golden ridges crested over his eyes, running back down his head and neck, and that beady glare itself was a deep pool of black ebony. As soon as it latched onto the two humans, it seemed to roll in a resigned fashion, and the massive bird lumbered to his feet with a shake of his wings.

 _Bugger the view,_ Becky thought to herself. This was far more impressive.

"Hello Xicerine," Bastien said, his tone completely unflustered by the presence of the massive bird before him. The roc did not bother to return the greeting, instead eyeing him with pure disdain, before lifting up a claw.

"Did you lose this?" he demanded, dryly. Getting over her awe, Becky blinked a few times, uncertain what she was supposed to be looking at. It appeared to be a small brown creature, with mottled skin and matted hair. As Xicerine held it up for inspection however, it came to life, thrashing violently at the air with sharp claws and dangerous little teeth, jabbering furiously through a vindictive smile.

"Holy shit!" Becky took a startled step back, and nearly went for an ungraceful trip of her own. It was not just the viciousness of the creature that was alarming, or the fact that it smelt like a damp house. The hairy monster had a penis that was about two thirds the length of its body, swinging pendulously as it struggled against its confines. The name jumped into Becky's mind instantly, though she had never seen one in her life, or even known that they really existed behind the veil. "Is that a tokoloshe?!"

"I guess," Bastien sounded just as astonished as she was. Crouching down so that his eyes were level with the little menace, he squinted at it, his mouth working faintly. "I had no idea that they were real." He eventually managed to say. "I've never seen one before."

Xicerine rolled his eyes as though he could not believe that anyone could be this stupid. "Well of course you haven't. They turn invisible by drinking water, and it might have escaped your notice-" he gestured a wing out behind him, where the Atlantic Ocean sparkled serenely in the backdrop, "-but we are not exactly short of that around here."

Becky could not help but shiver. In South Africa, tokoloshe were the monster under the bed, not just for children, but a good deal of superstitious adults. In Zulu and Xhosa legends, they were water spirits, said to cause anything from mischief to serious illness to those who had wronged their master. In addition to turning invisible when ingesting water, they were said to use their substantial endowments to pleasure the witches that summoned them.

"He's been getting haircuts," she noted, nodding at the straight fringe that fell above the creature's eyes. Bastien gave her a raised eyebrow. Another rumour that followed the creatures around, was that cutting their hair to keep it out of their eyes was the only way to keep them obedient. Her fellow Shadowchaser was clearly thinking the same thing - _someone has been using them._

"His state of personal grooming does not concern me," Xicerine said imperiously. "I do not care where these little menaces are coming from or why they are here. I only ask that you keep them out of my garden, and off my roof!"

He nodded pointedly at the nature reserve around them, and Becky could see Bastein's lips quirking at the notion that the vast mountain and the forest around it were nothing more than Xicerine's house. With an unpleasant thump, her mind latched onto the peculiarities of the roc's statement.

" _They_?" she asked sharply. "You mean you've seen more of them?"

"Dozens," the great bird stated. "Their little concealment tricks do not fool me. I was guarding these skies while their enchanter was barely a foetus."

His pomposity would have been amusing had the situation not quite been so serious. The idea of dozens of tokoloshe running around Cape Town awakened a very deep childish fear in Becky.

"We're sorry Xicerine," Bastien managed to sound terribly contrite, and he even bowed his head slightly. "We'll do our best to keep them away."

Xicerine huffed and tossed the jabbering little creature high into the air. Quick as a flash, Bastien had pulled out a hemp sack seemingly from nowhere, and caught the menace in it. He quickly twisted the end shut, before knotting it tightly. Little bulges appeared in the fabric as the creature tried to punch its way out.

"Will that hold it?" Becky asked nervously, remembering those sharp nails.

"It's enchanted, so it should do," Bastien nodded. "I'll find something a bit more sturdy when I get home."

He gave the impatient roc one last nod of acknowledgement, before heading back towards the pathway. Feeling that foreboding stare on her, Becky nervously tried to find her voice.

"Nice to meet you."

That penetrating look remained, and so she turned and scurried after her colleague.

"Is he always so…" she struggled to find a polite way of saying it as they moved out of earshot. Bastien gave a low chuckle.

"Actually that was remarkably civil for him," he admitted. "Usually he'd complain that we were late."

The tokoloshe jabbed him in the spine, causing him to wince. Smiling, Becky cast one last look over the top of the mountain, before dipping her eyes down to the city below.

"Y'know what?" Bastien halted, ignoring the squirming creature slung over his back. She wondered if he had seen her pause. "I think he needs to stay in here a bit longer to learn some manners. Let's go grab a coffee before we head back."

Surprised, Becky blinked between the view, her colleague, and the wriggling sack on his back. "You sure?" A smile teased at her lips. "I don't need a selfie, y'know."

"I know. But I think you do need the view, and I don't like disappointing," Bastien pointed out. Seeing her give him a piercing look with raised eyebrow, he grinned. "What? I can't do something nice for a colleague?"

She laughed in response. "Alright. Coffee it is. But you'd better buy."

"Oh come on!" Bastien groaned. "Is this how you treated the guys in Backwater?"

"No, but I blew all my cash on a coke and a bag of sweets at the duelling stadium. Seriously, they're worse than the bloody cinema! When I pay that much for a coke, I expect the cup to be solid gold!"

Her colleague laughed, and just like that, the heavy, prickly feeling seemed to evaporate from the mountain.

OOO

"...you really are, one ugly fucker aren't you?" Becky asked conversationally, poking mushrooms in through the wire. The small cage was meant to take a medium sized dog, and thus it gave the tokoloshe plenty of room to scuttle to the far side and hiss at her. Neither she nor Bastien knew what the small sprites preferred to eat, but since the Stone Cutter's break in was now firmly being charged against them, Bastien suspected that they would eat anything they were given, and had given Becky some leftover veg from the fridge for her to slice up.

He had to agree with her though. It was one of the most unattractive creatures he had ever seen in his life, and that included Veno. Now that the little menace was not being held in the grasping talons of a grumpy roc, he had a better chance to look at it. Tokoloshe had been described throughout various stories as a combination of zombies, poltergeists or gremlins in South African magic. In his opinion though, it resembled none of those things.

"It reminds me a bit of an Aye-Aye…" he muttered thoughtfully, getting up from the sofa and pacing the living room to stand next to his guest. "The shaggy hair and the look like they've been dragged through a hedge backwards…"

"...yeah, but Aye-Aye's have an endearing sort of quality to them. This thing does not," Becky concluded. She got off the floor, and flopped back into one of the sofas. Now that the long trek back down the mountain and the excitement at seeing Xicerine were over, she had tired fast. Jet lag was still taking its toll.

"You need fuel," Bastien surmised. "Sandwiches okay?"

"Please!" on cue, Becky's stomach growled at the lure of lunch, and Bastien laughed at her blush before beating a hasty retreat to the kitchen. It was a nice change to have someone with him today. With so much to do, he and Thando usually ended up working different jobs separately, and having the company had been pleasant.

"If there are more out there!" Becky called through the door. "Like Xicerine said, then how do we find them?"

Finding leftover chicken and ham in the fridge, Bastien straightened up with a sigh. At least that question was relatively simple. "Vuyo will be here on Thursday. As well as being an Incantifer, she's also a sangoma."

"Oooh!" though he couldn't see her, he could imagine that Becky's eyes had just got wide and excited, just as she had been on top of the mountain.

 _She's new to this_ , he thought. _Everything is still an adventure to her._

Just like it had been for him way back at the start. He had joined the Shadowchasers at twenty, and everything had been new back then. He had loved his job, and the challenges that came with it. He hadn't even noticed when it had stopped being an adventure and started being work. When exactly had he started living his job, instead of enjoying it?

"So has she seen them before?" he heard a thump, and knew that she must have thrown herself back onto the floor to watch the cage, and his mind scrambled to remember what they were talking about, as he retrieved bread.

"Has she seen a tokoloshe?" he asked, frowning in thought. "I don't think so. If she has, she's never told us. I'd certainly never thought they were real before today. I mean, people still call sangoma out when they want magical guidance and stuff, but most of the times they tend to be...well…"

"False alarms caused by overly superstitious people?" Becky surmised, helpfully.

"Yeah, basically. You hear it a lot - _tokoloshe cursed my daughter._ No, she's just sick. _Tokoloshe let my livestock out_. No, a drunk teenager came along and thought it would be funny." Bastien said, poking his head around the door. "Chicken, ham, lettuce and tomato?"

"Yum!" came the reply from the floor. A hand stuck itself up over the side and waved at him. "If you add mayo to that feast I'll love you forever!"

"Think I can manage that," the corners of Bastien's mouth twitched. "So I'm not too worried about how many there are. Vuyo can fix that when she comes down. My concern is why are they here? I don't like coincidences."

Becky's head popped up from the other side of the cage. "Your mysterious sea witch. You think she's summoned them and using them to kidnap people?"

"Tell me you didn't think the same?" Bastien challenged. "You said it yourself - someone's been giving him haircuts. They're water spirits, which is consistent with the puddles we've been finding. And they're so small they'd be perfect for scouting, or even sneaking up on people and casting spells."

"True, but…" Becky paused, clearly thinking hard. "Witches probably have far more reliable methods of doing both those things. "Tokoloshe...are mischievous, yes, but they're not very...sophisticated. I mean, Vuyo will probably know better what kind of magic they can do, but something capable of kidnapping Shadowkind-"

She was interrupted by the slamming of the garage door.

"We have a problem!"

Bastien's heart sank, along with the knife in the mayonnaise jar. "Oh I never like conversations that start like this…"

He poked his head around the corner to see Thando removing his shoes, and he had to stare. An effort had been made to brush it off his face, but his clothes and arms were covered in a layer of dust, as if someone had dumped him face first into a sandbox. There were also several cuts and scrapes along his arms that Bastien did not remember being there that morning.

" _Please_ ," his friend begged. " _Please,_ empty your voicemail! Every time I called you were out of service or not answering."

"Up a mountain," Bastien answered in order. "Driving my bike. What happened to you?"

Drawing a deep breath, as though fortifying himself, Thando marched into the living room, leaving a trail of dust on the carpet in his wake. Grabbing the sandwiches, the older Shadowchaser followed, almost running into his friend's back. Thando had halted dead in the doorway, his gaze frozen in confusion at the cage taking up the middle of the floor, and the girl sprawled on her stomach in front of it.

"Hi Thando, how are you?" Becky gave a cheery wave, as with a clang, the tokoloshe abandoned its mushrooms and pressed itself into the bars of the cage, baring its little teeth at the two men. Thando gave a startled shriek, and leaped backwards into Bastien, almost upsetting the sandwiches. A stream of creative curses escaped his mouth, before he regained enough of his wits to approach the cage.

"Is...is that…?" he slowly crouched down, his round eyes stuck on the small creature.

"Small, covered in hair, can turn invisible, leaves mayhem in its wake, and carrying its excessive genitals over its shoulder?" Becky surmised. "Can't think of anything else, unfortunately." She rolled onto her side, and held out her hand with a smile. "Good to meet you properly, Thando."

For a Zulu or Xhosa, seeing a tokoloshe in the flesh, was rather like confirming the existence of the bogeyman. But rather than look alarmed to discover that one of his childhood monsters was in fact real, Thando just gave a boyish grin, and returned the handshake.

"Pleased to meet you too, Becky - welcome home. Oh...sorry about that." He added sheepishly, seeing her wipe the dust from the handshake on the carpet.

Dutifully, Bastien handed out the sandwiches to his colleagues, wondering how long it would take Thando to spot the tomato. Becky took a bite, and immediately abandoned it to wipe mayonnaise off her chin.

"I can't believe it..." Thando repeated, before laughing. "Vuyo's going to _freak_ when she hears we've got a live tokoloshe for her! You think she's still with Dani?"

"Probably," Bastien said, taking a bite out of his sandwich, and trying not to dribble mayonnaise down his own front. "They should be at the border by now."

Nearly cackling with glee, Thando yanked out his phone, and snapped a photo of the water spirit, who seemed to have taken offence to Becky's comment about its excessive genitals, and was now doing an obscene little dance around its cage. Becky was pulling a face, as though she could not decide whether to cringe or to be amused.

"If this doesn't make her want to come to the city, I don't know what will!" Thando said, happily pressing the send button.

Deciding that Thando needed to be brought back down to earth, Bastien cleared his throat. His friend pivoted in a circle on the floor to face him.

"Thando? You were going to explain what the elves wanted, and what happened to you this morning?"

It worked like magic. The excitement drained from Thando's face like someone pulling a plug. With a heavy sigh, he got to his feet and headed for the pinboard.

"You know the Newlands unicorns?"

"...yeeees…" Bastien did not like where this was going. The unicorns that inhabited Newlands forest were a small herd but they were fiercely protective of their patch. Along with the elves, they served as the principal guardians for the stretch of reservation that wrapped around the southeast corner of Table Mountain.

With slumped shoulders, Thando screwed another red pin into the nature reserve, and Bastien groaned.

"How many?" he asked, wondering how the loss of two or three of their members would affect the herd. If they were young ones, the only effect was likely to be emotional, but losing any of the breeding females or the males, could have a devastating impact on the genetic diversity of the herd.

"All of them."

Thando dropped the blow with the appropriate amount of weight in his voice, and Bastien felt himself stagger backwards into the sofa, his sandwich slipping from his hands, back to the plate.

"What?"

"I talked to Gelehrin," Thando rubbed one of the grazes on his elbows in a petulant manner. "Some of the younger elves were out walking near the herd, and said that they just vanished. They've been combing the forest all morning and found no trace of them."

Disbelief and concern were all warring inside Bastien, and his mind made the leap from just three victims to so many in such a short space of time. "Bloody hell. That's twenty unicorns at once-"

"Twenty one," Thando corrected. "Elita foaled two days ago."

"That's a huge jump in numbers." He tried to latch onto some semblance of logic. "Same as all the others?"

Thando nodded. "One minute they were there. Then when the young ones turned their heads back - nothing. They didn't hear the herd leaving, and they certainly didn't see it. The only traces of them left were hoof prints, and a few strands of tail hair that had got snagged on branches."

"You said the last few vanishings left puddles of water behind," Becky pointed out, ignoring her plate on the floor and linking her fingers together thoughtfully. "Any of that here?"

Thando shrugged. "If there was, the forest floor had soaked it up before anyone noticed."

Bastien hissed between his teeth. "This is getting out of hand. I'm calling Jalal."

He got up, already texting London, asking their boss to talk as soon as possible.

"So you got up there, checked the area for magic and puddles and then...what? A sandstorm appeared?" Becky asked, gesturing to Thando's clothing.

Thando's expression became deliberately casual all of a sudden. "Well I finished my investigation and then...Gelehrin threw me out." He winced. "Literally. Her bodyguards tossed me back out onto the road."

It did not fool Bastien for an instant. "What did you do?"

"Why do you assume I did something?" Thando asked, his voice becoming defensive. "Gelehrin was just in a bad mood because of Stalatee - seriously, she spent every free breath trying to get her location out of me. It's like dealing with a child."

The missing piece of the puzzle snapped into Bastien's head and he regarded his friend with disappointment. "You told her Vuyo was coming, didn't you?"

He knew he was spot on before Thando even answered - it was impossible to miss the way his friend's back went instantly up. "Not my fault that woman is irrational!"

Bastien could not help the groan of exasperation that burst free. "Thando!"

"Don't you dare!" Thando's warning was suddenly fierce. "I am not going to pretend Vuyo doesn't exist just to satisfy Gelehrin's delicate sensibilities!"

"I'm not saying you should!" Bastien argued, clearly a little hurt by the suggestion that he could be so insensitive. "You know I'm on your side! But you must have known she'd react like that. You're usually good at picking your battles, so why provoke her?"

"Because she's a child in an eight hundred year old woman's body!" Thando was fuming now. "Vuyo's not going to stop existing just because Gelehrin wants it, and pandering to her insane belief only encourages her!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Bastien could see Becky's gaze flicking curiously between the two like a table tennis match. He tipped his head back against the sofa, and ran a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Thando continued. "Gelehrin can't stop us from going into the forest - it's public land."

"She can make it difficult for us, though," Bastien sighed. He knew Thando was right. Table Mountain and its forests could never be made a protected reserve, in spite of the elves constant petitions. As a World Heritage Site, it would be impossible to seal off from the rest of the world without raising any questions. But that did not stop the elves from placing all the enchantments they could legally get away with to remove visitors from their area. More than once the Shadowchasers had had to deter them from taking more drastic measures to stake their claim, and their relationship with them was fraught at the best of times.

"She wouldn't dare," Thando declared. "She might behave like a child, but knows better than to obstruct us from doing our jobs."

"Does she?" Bastien asked pointedly. "Spite is a powerful motivator. Do you think she loves her liberty more than she hates Vuyo?"

For the first time in the argument, Thando seemed to falter as he pondered this. It was perhaps fortunate at this moment that the fireplace flickered into life, and Jalal materialised.

"That was fast," Thando commented. Their boss arched both eyebrows at their dishevelled appearance.

"Uh...you said it was urgent, Bastien," he reminded him. Turning his head towards his friend, Bastien nodded. It was Thando's report - he should be the one to give it.

"All of the unicorns have vanished from Newlands forest," the Xhosa man said gravely. "Exactly the same as the others."

In nearly eight years, Bastien had never known Jalal to once lost his temper or composure, and that did not change today. He did however, register the intensity that crept into his boss's face at the news. "All of them?"

"Every last one," Thando continued. "The elves are double checking the reserve, but they're pretty sure. They've been over every blade of grass in the place."

"Has anyone else gone missing?" Jalal continued to question.

"Not since the three demons yesterday morning," Bastien said. "You should have a copy of the initial report somewhere in the system."

"That's a huge increase." Jalal said. "Both in number, and in time between vanishing."

Bastien cursed, as he realised that he was right. There had been a gap of at least a few days between all of the previous vanishings, whereas there was a scant twenty four hours between the three demons and the unicorns.

"Do you need me to send an Incantifer?"

Even before Bastien could say anything, Thando jumped in, his phone in hand and a grin on his face.

"Vuyo should be here tomorrow evening," he reported, smirking at the text message. "She's employing elbows to get over the border fast. We told her that we have a present for her."

"She has very odd tastes in gifts, if you ask me," Becky put in, from her position by the map. Jalal seemed to jump at the addition of the new voice.

"Becky?"

"Yo," she lifted a hand casually. "Don't sound too taken aback, Jalal. You'll hurt my feelings."

"Just surprised," the half dragon admitted. "You're supposed to be on leave."

"Got bored, and decided to help," she surmised. Yanking her eyes away from the hologram, she jabbed an accusing finger at the tokoloshe, whose hands had been reaching out from between the bars to snag her abandoned sandwich. "Leave it!" she commanded, in a deadly voice. The creature froze, before scuttling to the opposite corner of the cage, pausing only to blow her a loud raspberry.

"...that's not a dog you've decided to adopt, is it?" their boss asked, with the dry reluctance of a man who knew the answer, and suspected that he was about to learn something that he did not like.

"Nope," Bastien allowed himself to smile for the first time. "This was the other thing we wanted to ask you, boss. Have you heard of tokoloshe?"

As if on cue, the creature in question blew another raspberry. For a moment, Jalal looked puzzled, and then downright astonished.

"Only as myth," he admitted. "Don't tell me you found a real one."

"Xicerine found him on Table Mountain," Bastien corrected. "But he says there are loads of them all over the city."

Obligingly, Becky picked up the cage by the base, and lifted it up so that Jalal could get a proper look. The little spirit's routine of obscene gestures began anew.

"I feel like we should be putting some underpants on him," Thando commented, pulling a face at the impromptu dance.

"And people say I have delicate sensibilities," Becky teased.

"Did you know they existed, Jalal?" Bastien asked, deciding to break the awkward display in the cage. Leaning forward, Jalal looked the small creature up and down, his face moving from astonishment to awe, to puzzlement.

"I had no idea," the half dragon admitted. "We're certain that's what it is?"

"Well, my two experts say yes," Bastien grinned at both of his colleagues. Becky stuck out her tongue playfully at him.

"Well well. The world is very strange." The half dragon commented, squinting in his hologram as his eyes catalogued every detail that he could.

"And pervy," Becky frowned at the occupant of the cage. "Stop pointing that thing at me, or I'll come in there with my box of drawing pins!"

She rattled the red pins threateningly in their plastic jar, and the creature shut up once more.

"Well at least one of us can make him obey," Bastien offered with a smile, but Thando's face had turned thoughtful.

"Tokoloshe are said to be summoned by witches, or women who have been slighted...maybe it listens to Becky because she's female?"

"Could be," Jalal conceded. "But I don't fancy letting it out to put that theory to the test."

"Hmm…" Bastien nodded in agreement. In fact he had every intention of locking the cage in one of the back training rooms, and adding to it with all due haste. "I'd rather dedicate time to finding the witch who summoned them."

"Is that really our priority considering that we just misplaced twenty one unicorns?" Jalal asked, with an arched eyebrow.

"There might be a connection between the two," Thando admitted. "We did mention it in yesterday's report."

Quickly, they outlined the robbery at the Stone Cutters and emailed the photograph once more. Jalal absorbed all of the information patiently, and Bastien really hoped that he was coming up with some kind of revelation. In the background, the tokoloshe continued to jabber, and he wondered if the little creature was mocking them.

"It could be a coincidence," Thando admitted.

"Could," Becky was nodding darkly. "But it doesn't feel like it."

"Still, it's worth remembering that it could be," Jalal cautioned. "No sense devoting your energies to one, only to find out that the other is not only unrelated but has got worse in your absence." He folded his arms. "However, if this witch is behind these disappearances, then what we have on our hands is either murder or a kidnapping."

"I should know for certain if we can rule out murder in the next few days," Bastien said. "I have a contact heading back to the Abyss. If the three demons yesterday were kidnapped, there'll be no sign of them. If they were killed, she'll find them there."

Jalal gave him a half smile. "I don't want to know how you have a contact in the Abyss, do I?"

"Probably not," Bastien admitted, wondering for the hundredth time since the previous night just what price Rana would expect for her help.

"Still doesn't help much," Thando leaned back against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling as though all the energy were draining from him. "If it is kidnapping, we still don't know why someone would do that."

"It's not that complicated," Becky put in, chewing at the crust of her sandwich. "Kidnapping is pretty simple at its core. You either do it for revenge or gain - right Jalal?"

The half dragon nodded. "Since these Shadowkind are all different species, and nothing personal connects them together, I think we can rule out revenge in this case."

"That leaves gain," Becky surmised. "The kidnapper wants something, either from the victims themselves, or from someone else in exchange for their safe release."

She paused, sensing the looks that both Bastien and Thando were giving her. "...my best friend gets kidnapped a lot." She explained.

"Again though, they're all different species, different walks of life," Thando pointed out. "What could they all have that someone could want?"

Bastien could see their answer materialise in all their heads at the same time.

"Magic."

"Can you do that?" Becky asked. "Suck magic out of a person? Use them as some kind of battery for your own powers?"

"Of course," Jalal said. "It's in the nature of all people when they see something special in possession of someone else to covet it. Magic is no different. There are several cases in our files of individuals or superpowers throughout history using humans, spirits or even Duel Monsters as power cells. The rise of the Orichalcos and Atlantis over thirty years ago is a good example. Should be in the archives if you're curious."

"That doesn't make sense though," Thando began to pace in his role of devil's advocate. "They're clearly kidnapping by magical means - the disappearances are too clean to be anything else. If they have it already, why do they need to take it from others?"

"Maybe they don't have enough," Bastien suggested. "Maybe they want it for something big, and need more magic to make it happen. That could explain why they started small, and are now building up."

"Well that's cheery," Becky muttered. "So much for a relaxing break."

"You sure you want to get involved?" Bastien asked, quietly feeling that they could use all the help they could get. Becky scoffed.

"You want me to sit around while a population of Shadowkind could be in danger? Sod off. I'm in. What do we need to do?"

Their leader sighed heavily from his hologram by the TV. "Since there's no magic we can trace ourselves, all we can do now is gather more clues. I wish I had some definitive insight to offer, but whatever these vanishings are - kidnapping by a witch or something more sinister - frankly, it's like nothing I've ever seen before."

The words did nothing to improve Bastien's mood, and from the grave look in Thando's eyes, he guessed that his friend was having similar thoughts. If Jalal was lost, where the hell did that leave them?

"We can keep poking around for tokoloshe?" Becky suggested. "Even if they're not being summoned by this witch that the Stone Cutters saw, they probably shouldn't be left around unchecked. They could do a lot of damage."

Across the room, Thando shuddered. "I'll pop some bricks under the bedposts tonight." He muttered. Bastien felt his lips twitch, but he did not say anything. There was a fine line between superstition and reality in their lives, and he respected that. If elevating their beds helped his friend sleep at night, he would happily go with it.

"We'll stay on top of everything, boss," he promised. "And we'll let you know if there are any developments before Vuyo gets here."

Jalal gave a slow, thoughtful nod, and Bastien wondered if maybe they could just once catch a break, and something useful would just come to them that would solve everything.

"We'd better move this guy away from polite company," he jerked his head at the cage, where the tokoloshe had started a new break dancing routine.

"One last question, Bastien." Jalal put in.

"Sure boss."

"What in Gods name happened to your nose?"

OOO

Two hours later saw Becky back at her aunt's house, stewing over her laptop.

"It's official," she muttered, as the seventh page of google results yielded no help. "I miss Kenshin."

Sifting through the internet was like finding a four leaf clover. You knew that they were out there, but as you could not narrow it down, your only option was to go through every blade of grass in the field. Most of the results were blogs about magical creatures and amusing comic strips, along with the occasional newspaper archive, dating superstition that had gone around villages in the wake of sudden illnesses. The only useful page she had come across was Wikipedia, which had only really served to confirm what she already knew about the tokoloshe from her own childhood stories.

Sighing she directed her gaze back to her lap. Spread across it was a heavy book of magical tales from South Africa. The spine was frayed to strands, and the pages were bent from years of abuse by her and Andi. It had been a holiday ritual of theirs each time they had visited, to ask their Nana to read them a story from her book – never in her wildest dreams had she suspected that one day she would be using it to cross reference her research, and after two hours the page on tokoloshe was starting to blur into fragments.

 _Water spirit._ She mentally ticked off. _Various accounts compare them to gremlins, zombies and poltergeists. Turns invisible by drinking water. Summoned by a witch or a woman who has been slighted, in order to get revenge. Said to frighten small children, cause mischief, spread sickness, rape women, bite off toes while you sleep, and cause death. Can only be got rid of by a sangoma…_

Her mind was starting to feel like scrambled egg. Sighing, and rubbing her eyes, to ward off the approaching pain, she glanced over the arm of the sofa at her only companions.

"Hey Tequila, you know anything about tokoloshe?"

The tarantula, who had wedged herself into a handstand in the corner of her tank, gave no response.

"Yeah, I thought so," Becky replied with a heavy sigh. Idly, she turned the page in the book. Loose leafs of paper were tucked inside and she recognised her grandmother's hand immediately. Another childhood tradition – when Lihle had read to them, she would sketch the scene for her granddaughters as she went. Terrifying storms, winged snakes, rituals with fire and smoke, and huge beasts with teeth. A part of her was touched to see that her grandmother had kept them all.

From around the corner, the front door opened, and feet shuffled into the entrance as shoes were removed.

"Hello?"

"In here, Nana!" feeling suddenly as though she had been caught doing something naughty, Becky pushed the book under her knees and pulled her laptop back onto her stomach as her grandmother appeared on the hallway step in sweatpants, a tshirt and a hoodie.

"Oh that's good," Lihle said, turning on her heel and shouting through the open door. "See girls? She's fine! Now we can all stop panicking!"

She sounded so fed up, that Becky straightened to attention without even realising, as her sister and cousin came storming through the door. Andi did not pause to take her shoes off, or even break her stride, as she crossed the hall and the living room, and seized her sister in a hug. Confused, Becky opened her mouth to ask, but a yelp emerged instead as Andi immediately released her and thumped her hard in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Where the creeping Jesus did you go?!" Andi's voice was high, shrill, and not unlike their mother's when she was on the verge of hysterics. "I called a million times and you were out of service! And then when I did get through you weren't answering! I thought something awful had happened!"

Even more puzzled now, Becky gave up rubbing her shoulder (she'd forgotten how hard her sister could swing) and seized her phone from her bag. Sure enough, there were eleven missed calls from Andi, four from her mother, two from Vi, and one from Lihle, along with six unopened text messages. She had been so focused on Xicerine, the tokoloshe and the missing Shadowkind that she had not even noticed.

"Oh...oops," she muttered.

"That's it?" Andi had her hands on her hips. "Oops? Where the hell did you go?"

"For a drive," Becky sighed, already knowing that no answer was going to be good enough.

"You _left_ us!" Andi ranted. "We were supposed to have a fun day together, and you just ditched without a word! Why the hell couldn't I contact you?"

"I was up the mountain," Becky could feel her back going up. "And I did leave you a word – I text you before I left. No reason to freak out."

"I was not _freaking out!"_ Andi's voice was in danger of being lost to the ether. Like magic, Vi materialised by her side and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

"There was plenty of reason to freak out," she said. "We promised Mum that we'd all stick together. We all know people have been going missing."

It was painful, but Becky swallowed her retort. She knew they were in no danger since all the missing people were Shadowkind or Shadowtouched, but she could not explain that to her sister and cousin.

"I was fine. I can look after myself," she said. Andi scoffed, and her eyes narrowed at her sister. "What? I can!"

"Why couldn't we get hold of you?" Vi asked, before Andi could say anything about her sister's self preservation skills. "You were out of service for a good hour after our match."

"I went up the mountain." She growled again. "Since you'd already done it without me, I assumed you didn't want to do it again."

"Okay, why didn't you wait until we were done, and ask if we could all go up together?" Vi was patient, assuming the role of reasonable adult. It rubbed Becky badly. She already had an overbearing anxious mother. She did not need two.

"Because you'd been duelling since the dawn of time. And I fully expected you to go on until doomsday. I've seen glaciers move faster than your match!"

Andi's face went dark with rage again.

"So you ditched us because we were boring?" her voice was gearing up for another attack.

"That's not what I said!" Becky protested.

"Sounds like it to me!" her sister began to pace, building the storm up with each step. "Unbelievable! You think it's acceptable to just tear off and do your own thing without telling anyone because you're bored of us!"

"Oh don't give me that shit!" slamming the laptop lid closed, Becky got to her own feet, feeling she needed every advantage over her relatives. "You used to sneak off from us every Saturday in town when you were fourteen to go smoke with the goth kids outside Boots because you were bored of us!"

Her sister gaped at her and Vi took the chance to intervene.

"You went out of service, and then when you were back you still didn't answer," she said. "Can you at least understand why we reacted the way we did? Why we thought something bad might have happened?"

"Nothing happened!" A sudden wave of exhaustion claimed her. She was sick of fighting, and she hadn't even been back with her family twenty four hours. There was no explanation that she could give that they would accept, and the realisation filled her with a sudden sense of helplessness. "I told you, I can look after myself. There was no need to overreact like you guys did."

"What part of _people are going missing_ do you not get?!" Andi ranted. "There was _every_ reason to react like we did! You think getting kidnapped is a joke? It happens in this country! So don't stand there and act like we're the ones being unreasonable!"

The urge to bolt was overwhelming, so that was what Becky did. Folding her arms around the laptop, she barged past her sister towards the kitchen.

"Where the hell are you going now?" Andi demanded. "We are not done here, Becky!"

"Oh yes we are!" Becky threw over her shoulder as she marched through the archway. "We can talk again when you start listening to me and when you stop sounding like our mother!"

Andi's indignant squeak was the last thing she saw before rounding the corner and heading for the screen doors. The garden was mercifully empty, and she threw herself onto the swing, and tried to breathe her frustration out, like Fayte had taught her. This time, it did not seem to help.

" _What is wrong with them_?" she seethed in her own head. " _When did Andi start behaving like my bloody keeper? I'm not five years old, and I don't need hand holding, even if it is a strange city!"_

Tucking her feet onto the seat, she slammed the laptop into her lap, not wanting to be seen cuddling it like a teddy bear. She could open it and look for a distraction, but that would not help. She was too tense to focus on work now. She needed some kind of relief. She had a horrible feeling that she was going to hit someone if they came too close…

Apparently the universe did not want her to unwind today, as her phone began to buzz against her thigh. It figured that now she would finally notice it after all the drama that today had offered. For a moment she thought her sister was determined to continue the fight on a new medium. But the caller ID soothed her ruffled feathers somewhat, and she slid her thumb over the green icon.

"I'm sorry, I don't have your Pringles," she greeted her best friend. A light RP accent, with just a hint of northern drawl snorted before replying.

"You keep telling yourself that. My memory is clearing up though and I remember just what you were doing with them on my floor!"

"I was drunk," Becky reminded her. "I am not responsible for my sillies when I am that wasted."

" _Juuuudy!_ " the voice mocked in a whine. " _Look! I'm a duck! I'm a duck, Juuuuuuudy!"_

The memory in question floated hazily across her mind, and a giggle escaped. It was funnier now than it had been the morning after.

"At least I wasn't the only one making a spectacle of myself, Miss Half-Dragons-Don't-Get-Drunk-That-Easily."

"I was in perfect control of myself!"

"Riiight, because you always pounce on famous cricket players and snog them silly in a dark corner of the nightclub." Sliding the laptop under the swing, Becky gave herself a little push before settling down again. "And a Hampshire lad, Judy! Have you no loyalty to your own county?"

"There was no one from Yorkshire there! And besides, he was fit!"

"This is true…" Becky nodded sagely. "And speaking of fit, how's your French muffin? Did you practice your oral skills over dinner last night?"

A heavy sigh was all the answer she needed. "It was a nice meal. We talked. But there was just...no spark. Not for me at least. He looked so disappointed when I told him I was going home. Took me five minutes to hail a taxi, and it was pissing down with rain. We are now avoiding eye contact in lectures."

"Aww…" Becky pouted, remembering how much Judy had been looking forward to the evening all weekend. "Sorry hun."

Her friend drew a fortifying breath.

"It's okay. Means I can pounce on more cricketers." She said, with a forced attempt at some humour. Becky snorted.

"Just steer clear of Hampshire, or Emily might start accusing you of sabotage."

"Making out and a cheeky feel is not sabotage," came the curt reply, not a hint of amusement in her voice. Emily was a lifelong supporter of Hampshire County Cricket Club, and got very protective over 'her boys'. "But enough about cricketers. What's this I hear from Jalal about you and Bastien discovering a new species of Shadowkind? What sort of holiday is this?"

Becky groaned. News apparently travelled fast in their workplace. "It was an accident. And it's not a new species exactly." She quickly outlined her day, all the way from Xicerine and the tokoloshe, all the way to the conversation with their boss after lunch.

"Can't believe you got to see Xicerine!" Judy whined. "Jalal always complains that he can't go to South Africa because of him!" She trailed off grumbling, and a smile made its way back onto Becky's face. Talking through everything with her friend was cathartic.

Out of the corner of her eye the screen doors slid back, and every muscle in Becky tensed as she readied herself for another fight. But it was only her grandmother, dressed in a pink and orange dress with a towel wrapped around her head.

"Everything alright?" she whispered, seeing that her granddaughter was on the phone. Becky pulled a face.

"You heard?" she felt bad. This was her grandmother's house, they were her guests, and she and her sister had gone at it like children in the middle of the living room. Lihle rolled her eyes.

"Of course," she said. "My shower is refreshing, not sound proof. Your sister is cooling off in Vi's room. I suggest you do the same out here, my girl."

She bent over and plucked the laptop off the ground before Becky could stop her, replacing it with a sketchpad and pencil case, which last Becky had checked, was still buried in the bottom of her suitcase.

 _This is what guilt feels like_ , she thought, though she understood that she definitely deserved it.

"Sorry you had to listen to that, Nana."

"Accepted," Lihle said swiftly. "I'm here to listen, but you relax before coming back in. If you need anything, give me a shout."

She gave her another look – kind but firm - before trotting off back indoors. Something about seeing her grandmother's face made Becky feel like a child again, and as she leaned forwards to pick up the sketchbook, an idea leaped into her mind.

"You still there?" Judy asked, confused by the long muffled conversation in a language she didn't understand.

"Hang on a second," she scrambled to the end of the bench, and peered around the door. "Nana!"

Turning by the sink, Lihle eyed her curiously.

"There is something you can do actually…" Now that she was saying it she felt a little silly, but the threat was real, and she could at least ensure that they had some form of defence. "Don't freak out, but...could you put bricks under everyone's bedposts tonight?"

It was very difficult to astonish her grandmother, and Becky would remember the slack expression on her face for the rest of her life. She blinked a few times, as the meaning of the ancient precaution processed through her startled mind, and her eyes went wide in understanding.

"Oh dear…" she muttered, before trotting nervously out into the garden again to carry out the instructions.

"...since my Xhosa is non existent," Judy said, slowly. "I'm guessing what you just said to your grandmother was on a par with asking her to streak at a Twenty20 match."

"Don't give her ideas," leaning against the back of the swing, Becky watched her grandmother as she began to select bricks from the stack surrounding the barbecue pit. At least now she could feel she had gone some way to protecting her family, whether they realised it or not. "Just asked for her help. It's a superstition – if you raise your bed off the floor, the tokoloshe can't climb up to it."

"Huh...well I guess it doesn't hurt to try," Judy conceded. "What will your family say?"

Irritation flared, and a grumpy huff escaped her. "Well Andi and Vi aren't speaking to me right now, so I don't suppose they'll say much."

"You've been there twenty four hours!" Judy was incredulous. "What could possibly have got them in a twist that quickly?"

It was like approaching a marsh that you had just spent hours trying to wade out of. Taking a deep breath, Becky plunged back in. "It was me. I went off this morning to meet Bastien without telling them where I was going. Andi was convinced I'd been kidnapped or something. She came home just now and started yelling at me for taking off. She has issues Judy, I swear. I'm not a child. I can look after myself."

"Well yes," Judy agreed, kindly. "But they don't know that."

"Yes they do!" Becky objected. "I told Andi I could take care of myself, but it was like she suddenly had selective deafness or something. I had no idea she thought so little of me that the thought of me being capable was suddenly impossible to entertain."

"Becky, she doesn't know any better."

"I just said, I told her!" she was starting to wonder if everyone had selective deafness today.

"But what reason does she have to believe you?" Judy asked. "Just...stop getting angry for a second, and think about it."

She wasn't quite sure if it was the tone in Judy's voice or the sudden noise of Lihle washing her bricks with the garden hose that shut her up, but her tongue obediently fell silent.

"You might know that you are capable, but your family don't have any reason to know that beyond your word. They don't know you're a Shadowchaser. They don't know what you were doing in training. They don't know you've spent the last year learning how to fight. Of course they don't think that you can take care of yourself." Her voice went sharp. "At least, I'm assuming you haven't told them what you were up to?"

"Christ no," Becky muttered, feeling a little bit chagrined. Now that Judy said it, she could see where Andi's single-minded crisis mode had come from. "Still...even if she didn't believe me, flipping out like that was a bit extreme. I'm not even really in danger." She dropped her voice as her grandmother shuffled back inside with an arm load of clean bricks. "We already know that this thing – whatever it is – only takes Shadowkind and Shadow touched. I wasn't at risk anyway."

"Hindsight isn't a benefit in this case, sweetie," Judy said patiently. "You know that this thing isn't dangerous to you or them, but Andi and Vi don't know that. They probably thought that they'd be safe in a group of three. But I'll bet when you left, and thinned them down to a group of two, Andi probably started feeling pretty vulnerable." She paused, and it was almost possible to see her shrug. "So in Andi's eyes, you didn't just put yourself in potential danger, but them too."

Guilt was creeping up into Becky's stomach, and she did not like it. She hadn't even stopped to consider what might have happened to Vi and Andi on their own. Even in a public place like the duelling arena, people could still become targets. Heck, before she had left, every man in the place had been doing their best to hit on them. One at a time, they were easily manageable, but if four or five of them had come up at once, it could have easily turned into something sinister.

"I didn't mean to abandon them," she said, all too aware of how childish she sounded. Judy made a sympathetic noise, and Becky felt even worse for thinking that she had been on her sister's side of the argument.

"I know it can't be easy," her friend tried to soothe. "Having to retrain your brain to think like that. You've spent most of the last year in Backwater. You've got used to operating either with Fayte or on your own."

"It's not just that," Becky admitted, giving herself another push. The swing seemed to cradle her, but rather than soothe her, it only made her feel worse. "How do I explain...any of this? I can't tell them anything, so how do I make them understand that they don't need to worry? That I'm fine on my own."

Her friend let out a sigh. "That I don't have an answer to, sweetie. I don't know what everyone else tells their families in situations like ours."

Pressing herself deeper into the seat, Becky resisted the urge to curl up. "Secrecy sucks, Judy. I can't believe I never realised it before."

"Hmm," the half dragon agreed. "In some ways, I can't help but wonder if sending you to Backwater was a good idea after all. Sure you needed it-"

"I was going to say!" Becky agreed. Aside from desperately needing the crash course in Shadowkind that Backwater provided, she knew now that she had needed to get over her crippling fear of vampires even more.

"But it's such a unique place," Judy said. "You don't have to worry about keeping secrets there because everyone knows the big secret. Out here it's...like you've got to watch your step all the time, just in case you say something-"

"Yes! That's exactly it!" Becky threw a hand into the air. "And nothing I say will make sense to them...well, except Nana. She figured it out straight away."

"Smart lady." Judy commented. "I guess you've just got to deal with it for the next week or so until you're back here. At least London's so big you can take refuge in audacity and the odds are nobody will know you well enough to call you out."

Closing her eyes, Becky rubbed her face. "I'm back a week Thursday...I can manage until then."

She _had_ to manage until then.

"And don't run off again," her friend added helpfully.

"Too bloody right," Becky muttered. "It's not worth the grief I'm getting."

"Well there is that," Judy agreed. "But more to the point, it's not worth alienating your family just to do some work. There are tokoloshe and rocs any day of the week in our job, but your family are one of a kind."

Sighing, Becky mentally ran over her itinerary. "We're meeting Marina tomorrow afternoon to pick up her dress. I think Andi and Vi want to go shopping too. I guess I've got a few things I could buy."

"Of course you do – you know the drill. I'm expecting something outrageous and tacky!"

The tradition of silly holiday gifts had been going for a few years now, ever since Emily's holiday to Disneyland, when she had returned with Disney Princess tiaras for all of her friends. The thought brought a smile to Becky's face - her tiara still hung over the mirror in her bedroom.

"Then we've got the hen party tomorrow evening as well," she said, before rolling her eyes. "Mum keeps insisting it's not a party - it's just a group of women going out for a nice celebratory dinner. I don't think she realises that Vi's got a shortlist of clubs."

" _Juuudy! I've got your Pringles Juuuudy!"_ her friend burst into giggles. "You didn't bring Pringles with you by any chance?"

Huffing indignantly, Becky folded her arms. "No, but there's three giant bars of Galaxy in my suitcase." She let Judy chortle some more, before continuing. "Anyway, one hangover this week was enough. I don't plan on getting a second."

"Aww okay," Judy sounded thoroughly disappointed. "You be good, kay? No running off to help the boys, unless it's the end of the world!"

Remembering everything she had learned that day, Becky pulled a face, as a sliver of dread slipped into her gut. "Please don't say that." She begged, glancing up as the sounds of Vi being brushed off by her grandmother echoed through the open kitchen door. "I'll facebook you tomorrow – let you know how everything goes."

"Sure thing," Judy nodded. "But if you need to talk, call me. I don't care what time of day it is, kay?"

"Will do. Bye."

She hung up with a sigh. She wasn't sure she had fixed any of her problems, but she did feel better for having aired them.

Remembering that her grandmother had stolen her laptop, she flipped the replacement to a completely fresh page, and found a pencil. She had dragged this sketchbook all the way to America when it had been brand new, and she had barely filled a third of it. She wasn't sure she had ever owned a sketchbook that had lasted that long without being finished.

Stretching her fingers, she drew a few elaborate swirls to warm up her hands. After months of barely any drawing she felt stiff and clumsy, her moves full of sharp edges and awkward corners. But eventually they smoothed out, and her images became more refined. She was nowhere near her grandmother's level, she reflected, thinking of the sketches in the book, but she was decent enough. Once an entire pattern filled the page, she turned to the next, and began to sketch properly.

She wasn't entirely sure what she was drawing at first. Lines began in light strokes across the page, before they filled out to something more defined. It was only when an eye, as black as ebony began to take shape on the page, that she realised what, or rather who, she was drawing.

The sounds of her grandmother washing even more bricks, and trotting in and out of the house faded around her, until only the gentle shading of feathers, and the scowl that lingered deep in that gaze remained in her vision. She was just filling in some of the details around the beak, when an unfamiliar figure edged out of the sliding doors.

"It's chillier in there than down south," Ruan announced, shuffling out onto the deck with his laptop in one hand, and a bottle of water in the other.

Becky chuckled. "You think that's chilly, you haven't seen Mum and Andi when they fight. The shrieking, the insults, the hurling of grievances...and then the polar vortex settles for about a week."

"Hmm...thanks for the warning," Ruan grinned, taking one of the creaky folding chairs on the other side. "So did you have fun up the mountain?"

It was the first time anyone had asked her that all day, and it made Becky feel much better. "That view never gets old." She declared.

"I know what you mean - though last time I was up there I didn't get much of a chance to appreciate it." Seeing her curious look, he added. "Crime scene. Spent most of it trekking up and down one of the hiking trails, and when we finally did get to the top the cloud was awful."

"All the effort for nothing," Becky gave him a sympathetic look, all the while secretly wondering if ruining the view was how Xicerine got his kicks. "That must have sucked."

"Uh huh," Ruan nodded, his gaze going back to his laptop.

"You're not going to lecture me on the dangers of going off by myself?" she asked, surprised. A half smile materialised over the top of the screen.

"I met you less than twenty four hours ago - I have no right to lecture you," he pointed out. "And in any case, you act like you can take care of yourself. You're probably more aware than most that this city is dangerous."

"What makes you say that?" sliding her legs off the bench, Becky swung herself upright, sketchbook still on her knees. She did not know Ruan well, and now that she had spoken to Judy she was curious about the kind of conclusions a stranger could draw about her.

"There's a look," Ruan admitted. "A way you walk, and tackle problems. When you know how to spot it, it's obvious. At first I guessed you were military from all the secrecy, but you don't have the discipline for that. So I'm going to guess private security or some kind of government enforcement."

He paused expectantly, but Becky kept her expression neutral.

"You've spent the last year abroad, and not shared any details with your family, so I'm going to guess you were on some kind of basic training programme. You've been walking on air since you got here, so I can only assume you graduated from it recently, and are still celebrating." He lifted his water bottle. "Congratulations, by the way."

This was not like her mother's probing, or her sister's endless questions. This was more like a game, Becky realised, an understanding between two people who shared similar professions. So she grinned.

"You're good," she admitted, pulling her feet back onto the swing and giving herself a little push. "Not saying you're right. But you're good."

She turned her head back towards his smile. "Now it's my turn. You've been at this right from the beginning, that's why you're so passionate about a system that has such a poor reputation for corruption and blackmail. You're not naive - you're just an idealist. You uphold the rules scrupulously, but if push comes to shove, you'll happily put the rules to one side if it helps someone you care about - hence your readiness to ignore confidentiality about your current case, and warn your fiancée and her family of the dangers."

She picked up her pencil and settled back into the chair. "Oh, and you prepare for anything. That's why your vektor is taped to the lid of Whiskey's tank."

She glanced up from the sketchbook to see him blinking at her in astonishment. It was one of many things she had concluded in the last twenty four hours, including the fact that her grandmother kept a bottle of salt on each windowsill in the house (possibly decorative, but Becky was willing to bet they were to keep demons out). She continued to smile pleasantly at Ruan, until his own grin crept back across his face, and he laughed.

"Not bad. But did you spot where the ammo was?"

A frown materialised on Becky's forehead. She had only seen the handgun while feeding the tarantulas (with mealworms and a live pygmy mouse that they had caught in one of the traps in the garden), and hadn't bothered to untape it to check if it was loaded or not.

"Hmm...suppose I'll find that out tomorrow," she said, conceding the game in the face of the pleasant conversation, and going back to shading in Xicerine's wings. Apparently satisfied, Ruan powered up his laptop.

"Any more kidnappings today?" Becky found herself asking. It was risky, and she did not want to let slip just how involved she was getting in this case, but it felt so nice to have someone in the house speak to her as a peer – an equal – that she did not want to let it end. And besides, Ruan had seemed so invested the night before that she could not help but respect him for it.

Her future uncle sighed. "No – not that we were expecting one. There seems to be a gap of a few days between them."

 _Not any more_ , Becky thought, but she held her tongue. "Well that's something. Any links between them?"

Ruan pursed his lips – this was clearly a point of irritation to him. "No…not that that means anything. Most of the victims seem to have incomplete records."

"Incomplete how?" He looked at her, and she held up her hands. "If you can't tell me, I get it. I have a non-disclosure agreement in my job too. Just…professionally curious, I guess."

The older man had a long, penetrating gaze, and Becky reminded herself never to play poker with him – she suspected that he was a master at spotting tells. But eventually he shrugged and took a breath from his meditation.

"No fixed address. No school records. No employment records. Dates of birth that don't match up…some of them didn't even have ID."

He shook his head at the absurdity of his own case. Becky was not surprised – legally every South African citizen had to carry their ID card once they reached the age of majority. While Shadowkind could get by with legal documentation, those who were not permanent residents of this plain, or who's longevity would raise questions, often had to resort to forgery or fabrication. She suspected that if the victims were ever recovered, several may find themselves facing uncomfortable questions from the police.

"Any relatives who can shed any light?" she asked. Ruan huffed.

"None that want to tell us anything helpful," he said. "Don't know why I'm surprised. Most people – well, our reputation is…"

"Crap?" Becky suggested helpfully. She was not trying to be rude, but she was perfectly aware of just how much corruption went on in the South African Police Service. Along with stories from Vi over the years, their uncle Jeremiah was also a former police officer with plenty of tales of his own to share.

"…it doesn't help us," Ruan finished, a grim expression on his face, as though the state of his profession caused him physical pain. It took Becky by surprised. Most police officers in South Africa just grew accepting of what went on further up the chain and stopped asking questions. Ruan however, was clearly not okay with it. And if he'd gone this long and still felt that way, there was a good chance he always would.

 _I was right,_ she thought to herself. _Loyal, idealistic and passionate to a fault._ All admirable qualities. She hoped that it did not wind up getting him into trouble.

"Well, you're the best option they've got," she said, rolling the pencil between her fingers and going back to her sketchbook. "People will come round eventually."

She was pleased to see him smile at her optimism, even as guilt squirmed away in her belly. She was all too aware that she possessed information that Ruan would probably be desperate to get his hands on. Once more, the secrets hung on the edge of her lips, desperate to be released into the world, and it was with the greatest effort that she wrestled them back.

 _Your job is not about secrets. It's about keeping others safe._

Ruan's job was about keeping people safe too. If she kept secrets, what price might they eventually have? More people would go missing and even get hurt or killed if she didn't tell him. But if he knew she was a Shadowchaser, then he might have the foot in the door needed to interfere with them. Or even arrest them for withholding evidence. And then all of the Shadowkind and magical beings she was supposed to protect wouldn't have their protector.

The guilt squirmed hard, torn in two directions between her desire to help everyone and the knowledge she was serving a greater good by maintaining the Veil.

If Ruan had any of his own guilt or worries or if he suspected her of hiding anything, it didn't show. Becky tried to put her mind back on her art as both of them returned to their respective tasks. It was a great relief when Vi stuck her head out of the door.

"Why is Nana putting bricks under everyone's beds?" she demanded, sounding utterly perplexed.

"Tokoloshe," Becky replied, with a serene smile, and Ruan began laughing in earnest, as Vi rolled her eyes.

"Oh for the love of…"

OOO

 **A/N:** That's 17,000 words, and I hope you all appreciate them! My standard is 10k for each chapter, but it just didn't feel right breaking this one up.

Still not too late to leave reviews as wedding presents! Before that, please enjoy a Shadowchaser File.

 **Shadowchaser Files**

 **Xicerine**

Every Shadowkind who lives in Cape Town is well aware of the unmistakable presence that flies high over their city. Occasionally the beat of wings and breath of air can be felt on the back of your neck. The magical signature is old, and delivers a firm message to outsiders.

 _This is my territory. Bugger off._

Xicerine has been around since Shadowkind first settled in South Africa, flitting between his roosts on Ysterkroon in Limpopo, Thabana Ntlenyana in Lesotho, and his current roost on Table Mountain. As a roc, the closest terrestrial bird to which he resembles is the eagle. His plumage is varying shades of brown, to better allow him to blend in with the scrubland and mountains in which he usually makes his home. With an eighty one foot wingspan, he has virtually no natural predators, however that is by no means a guarantee of his safety. On more than one occasion throughout history, enterprising Shadowkind or Aware humans have sought to capture or kill the mythical roc. Most notably in 1989, a group of giants mounted an expedition to trap and enslave him. Nobody is quite certain what happened, but by the time the earthquakes had subsided, the giants were fleeing to Angola, and Xicerine was back in Thabana Ntlenyana preening his feathers, and complaining loudly about time wasters.

As a roc, Xicerine is highly territorial, and dislikes anyone coming too close to his nests. He loathes dragons, as they are one of the few creatures that can match him in terms of size and strength, and they will often fight with rocs for space. Xicerine's exact top speed is unknown, though he has been recorded at over Mach 3. He seems to have some slight control over the weather, tweaking the air pressure or summoning up cloud to blanket Table Mountain from view. Like dragons, he also possesses the ability to assume a human form, however this is rare due to his well known disgust towards humans, stemming from their selfishness, stupidity, and hatred of their own species. The rest of Xicerine's powers are unknown, though with a sharp beak and razor claws, some would argue that he doesn't need magic to make people go away.

 **Origins:** South Africa is already home to a diverse range of wildlife. I assumed when planning this fic, that the range of Shadowkind would be equally diverse. I'd read about rocs when I was a teenager, and the idea of a large bird surveying the land from Table Mountain was one that stuck with me. Age makes you cynical and grumpy, and I assumed that being very old, Xicerine was probably the embodiment of cynical and grumpy (I was amazed however, at how much I grew to love him for it).

 **Deck:** No one has ever seen Xicerine duel, and they probably never will. Dangling idiots off the edge of a cliff is far more effective than a children's card game ever will be.


	5. Invitations

**Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 5: Invitations**

Winding its way around the outside of Table Mountain, the M6 was a wonderful stretch of coast road. Curving past the elegant hotels that edged Clifton and the Kloof, it then wound its way around cliffs, slowly climbing until you could see for miles out into the Atlantic Ocean.

As the two bikes rounded the end of the table, they turned off the coast and along the road that would cut them across the peninsula. To the north, Newlands Forest stood in silent sentry. Bastien frowned. The leaves were a lush green that crept up the side of the mountain. It didn't feel right. With the sudden loss of a herd of its inhabitants, it felt as though the forest should be in mourning, a dull pallor cast over it.

He shook his head beneath his helmet. He had enough to worry about without thinking about the forest.

He and Thando were zipping their way as fast as possible towards Simon's Town, a large residential area in False Bay that doubled up as the home base of the South African Navy. It did not have the biggest beaches in the world, but it did a steady trade with tourists looking to escape Cape Town's busy crush for a few days, and the small strips of sand provided shelter for all manner of creatures, both terrestrial and Shadowkind. One in particular, had raised the alarm today.

The beach was full of gawking spectators, being held back by the local police as they jostled and pushed to take photos on their phones. Some of the naval officers from the base were assisting, while others merely stood there, unable to take their eyes off the spectacle that had washed up on the beach.

As Bastien pulled into a space by the edge of the sand, he felt the sight punch deeply into his chest. The entire stretch of beach was dominated by the ragged and beaten corpse of a humpback whale. Stretched across the sand on its side, its back was bowed towards the land, giving Bastien the unsettling impression of a child curling up to defend itself. The left fin and tail were torn with deep bloody gashes, and dotted along its body were puncture marks as vicious sets of teeth had dug their way in and pulled away at the flesh.

By his side, Thando muttered something in Xhosa, his eyes wide and horrified. Bastien reached over to squeeze his shoulder, only to realise that his own hand was shaking.

"C'mon, let's get this over with."

A ring of barriers had been placed in the sand some twenty five feet away from the whale to keep the throng of spectators back, with officers and cadets patrolling the edge of them, occasionally barking warnings at the enthusiastic public if they tried to get too close. Nudging Thando, Bastien quickly spotted the highest ranking officer, who seemed to be getting annoyed at the swelling crowd of people. Like most of the officers, his trousers were damp to the knees, and his boots were covered in sand. They had clearly all been here for a while now. As Bastien and Thando elbowed their way past the crowd and into view, he marched over, his shoulders tense.

"Please stay back gentlemen-"

"Bastien Holst and Thando Ndlovu. Dr Van Kaan is expecting us, Lieutenant."

Recognising the names, some of the tension left the man's shoulders. He did however insist on seeing ID before he moved one of the barriers back to let them pass.

"She's over there," he jerked a thumb towards the head of the whale. "Hope you've got some good news for her. Poor girl's really cut up about this one. Don't blame her to be honest. It's a real shame."

He nodded towards the massive corpse, while Bastien merely inclined his head in thanks before marching across the sand with Thando on his heels. He strongly suspected that 'cut up' was going to be the biggest understatement of the day so far. Sure enough, as they passed the blowhole, they could just make out the tall, slender figure standing by the front of the mouth, gazing at the defeated beast with a lost expression on her face.

"Serena?" Bastien called, and she jumped at the sound of her name. Even from this distance, it was possible to see her throat working hard to swallow back the unshed tears. Bastien was surprised that she had not broken down already. As a half nymph, Serena Van Kaan found ugliness and evil abhorrent, but as one of the country's top marine biologist, she was expected to be present today. Her academic studies focused mostly on the whales found in the bay, but her primary concern, known only to a few people, was to aid in the concealment of the marine Shadowkind in the area, a repertoire which included her own kind, along with a small population of selkies and two rival gangs of merfolk.

"Thank you so much for coming," she cleared her throat as they approached, trying to turn her voice back into something more business-like. She wore flat shoes, jeans and a smart blazer, all of which were streaked with sand, and her dark hair was tied back in a sensible ponytail. "I know you must both be busy."

With a steadying breath, she focused her gaze on both men. Were she a full blooded nymph, a single look would probably have killed Bastien on the spot, but her human side diluted the ability somewhat, meaning that she just appeared to be an uncommonly beautiful woman. In fact she'd spent most of her life being told by chauvinists that she was far too pretty to be a doctor, something which irked her to no end.

"Sorry for your loss," Thando said gravely, and Serena's eyes flicked back to the whale. Already seagulls were circling overhead, and police and members of her research team were running around trying to shoo them away from the corpse.

"Better get straight to the point," she muttered, almost to herself, before setting off across the sand with a wave, indicating that they should follow her. "She washed up overnight. Folk spotted her from the road at about six this morning. The cadets came to help keep the area clear until the police got here. That was at about nine, roughly the same time we got called in."

She stopped at the chest, where the right flipper lay trapped beneath the owner's body. Bastien could not help but take a step back. The stench was terrible, and the buzzing of flies was a cacophony. A huge chunk had been ripped out where the flipper joined the body, and the wound was still oozing even now.

"Most end up on the bottom of the sea floor…" there was a hitch in Serena's voice now, as they surveyed the damage. "They just drop when their injuries become too numerous. This one must have fled toward the coast for shelter and then got washed up. She would have been too weak to fight the tide."

"What did that to her?" Thando was aghast at the huge, gaping wound. "A killer whale?"

Serena shook her head. "They only hunt juvenile humpbacks. She's forty five and a half feet long - far too big for a pod of orcas to challenge."

"Would she have had any other natural predators?" Bastien asked, already knowing what the answer was, and now seeing why Serena had called them out. Again, her dark ponytail shook from side to side.

"Nothing…" she glanced around before continuing. "I made a few calls - none of my Shadow contacts have seen anything in the water that might prey on whales. I'm not too surprised. Something this big will probably live in deep water, not the shallows."

"Yeah but…" Thando was still gawking at the huge bite. "...what could do this? _Is_ there any Shadow that big?"

Bastien's heart was sinking. "If there is, I've never heard of it." Just what they needed. First people vanished all over the city, then a witch popped up spawning minions all over the place, and now they had to hunt for some deep sea Shadowkind that was threatening the local whale population. They said bad things came in threes, but this was ridiculous.

A research assistant approached, with a notebook filled with figures, which he handed to Serena before meekly trotting back to the other end of the whale. All of Serena's team had a distinctly sombre air about them as they worked.

"Okay," Serena's eyes flicked over the measurements. "Based on the size of the teeth marks, and the width of the bites, we're figuring this creature must have been between sixty to eighty feet."

The sheer enormity sent Bastien's mind reeling. Dragons averaged at about seventy feet and Xicerine was not far off that either. The biggest creature on earth was the blue whale, and that entered in at around ninety eight feet.

Thando whistled. "Why didn't it just swallow it whole? Why just bite at it and wait for it to bleed out?"

"Safety?" Bastien suggested. "Better to bite it and wait for it to die on its own then drag it down and risk injuring yourself?"

Even as he said it, he realised how stupid that sounded. If you were between sixty to eighty feet long, you didn't need to worry about being hurt by your forty five foot prey.

"Or ambush it from below?" he tried again.

"You're thinking of sharks," Serena informed him. "Sharks don't work that way. Even if there was a shark big enough, they don't operate like this. They go in from the bottom for one devastating bite to the middle or back, and then they drag their prey down into deep water. This-" she pointed to the whale. "This poor girl has four major bites. That means whatever attacked her had the opportunity for multiple strikes - it probably chased her. The only reason I can think of that she got away, was that she made it to shallow water, where the hunter couldn't follow."

Bastien pulled in a deep breath. "Which would support your suggestion that it's big."

"And explain why it may be something that we haven't seen before," Thando muttered, his gaze following the length of the whale's body thoughtfully.

"Wouldn't be that farfetched," Serena shrugged, all business again as she flipped the pages of results over. "We discover new species in the water all the time."

"There weren't any teeth wedged into the wounds or anything that we could use as a clue?" Bastien asked hopefully.

"Nothing. Whatever bit her, kept all its teeth, along with its meal," stuffing the notes back into her bag, Serena shook her head. "We're sending samples back to the lab to see if any residue was scraped off when it bit. I'll let you know if we turn anything up when they come back."

"That would be great. We'll talk to Jalal and see if he knows anything big enough to take down a whale." He glanced toward his teammate. "Although I have no idea how we'd even go about finding or catching the thing. Maybe they can build a big ta...Thando?"

Thando was not paying attention to the whale, or indeed the scene at all. His gaze was locked some feet away on the shoreline, watching the waves come in and out slowly. So smoothly that Bastien almost missed it, he pulled a small vial of liquid from his pocket, and tossed it in the direction of the incoming waterline.

It shattered with a crack, and something screeched furiously in pain, splashing around in the water in a tangle of matted brown hair.

"Tokoloshe!" Thando yelled, clearing the distance in an instant on his long legs, and tackling the little creature into the shallow water. It shrieked and clawed at him, but he got both arms around it and rolled over to face Bastien, sand and seawater matted all over his face and clothes.

"Gotcha...OW! Little fucker bit me!"

There was blood oozing from two sharp puncture marks in his arm, and the tokoloshe had still not let go, jabbering furiously around its meaty prize.

"Oh my-!" Serena clapped a hand over her mouth before her shrieks could draw the curious attention of the rest of her team. "What _is_ that? It's disgusting!" she whispered in horror.

"Saw the water breaking around his feet," Thando explained, as Bastien fumbled in his rucksack for his trusty hessian sack. "Wanted to grab him before he could gulp down more and vanish again."

He shook the creature free into the sack with a growl of pain, and Bastien quickly secured the top. Thando shook out his arm, and allowed Serena to pour seawater over the bite.

"Well...we've got the one at home a friend now," Bastien said, shaking the sack. "Better drop him off before anything else happens to him. Anything else we should know about the whale before we leave?"

"Just that once we're done identifying the cause of death," Serena looked sad once more. "We'll be preserving bits of her...I imagine some of them will go to Iziko, some we'll keep with us in the lab, some will be sent around the world..."

She trailed off, suddenly looking helpless again. Thando squeezed her shoulder.

"We'll do our best to find out what did this," he promised.

 _Hopefully before it develops a taste for whales,_ Bastien thought. unwilling to entertain the thought that one whale would not satisfy its appetite for very long. Humpbacks had only just got themselves off the endangered species list - the last thing they needed was a new predator putting a dent in their hard won numbers.

"Oh lovely…" Thando backed away, and Bastien held the bag at arms length as the smelly damp patch began to spread over the weave. Serena's complexion went pale, and she shuddered in revulsion.

"Okay, we'll just be going," Bastien assured her. "Call us if you find anything relevant!"

The mortified biologist nodded, backing away across the sand, as they rounded the corpse and headed for the barrier.

"Why on earth would a witch want to spy on a dead whale?" Thando asked, as the same officer let them back out. The crowd parted to let them through, some arching curious eyebrows at the wriggling, smelly sack.

"Got me," Bastien shrugged, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. "None of this makes any sense…."

OOO

A knock at the door tore Ruan's eyes away from the folio on his desk.

"Sorry boss," Sven ducked his head sheepishly. "Cup of tea?"

Ruan glanced down at the mug on his left side. It was untouched, and at some point in the last three hours it had started propping up one of the many stacks of paperwork. Carefully, he lifted the files and extracted it. The cardboard folios began to slide, and he quickly replaced their scaffolding with the pen pot instead. The tea was stone cold and a skin had formed on top.

"Cheers," he passed it over. The youngest member of his team gave him a sympathetic smile and sped off to the kitchen. He was a good lad, Ruan thought to himself. If only he could have had a hundred more like him.

Ruan's team was still fairly new by SAPS standards, but it was already one of the largest. Each city had had its own units for murder, robbery and vehicle thefts since the organisation's establishment, but it had taken nearly twenty years and a very high profile trafficking case before anyone had considered that a unit for abductions might be necessary too. The team had been established a year and a half ago, and Ruan had happily accepted the promotion – he had seen more than enough murders to last a lifetime, and the complexity that kidnappings often presented were the kind of challenge that he liked.

Even he had to confess though, that this kidnapping spree was proving more challenging than the rest.

The stack of paperwork had started to slide again, and he decided to rescue his pen pot, dumping the pile of brown folios onto the nearest chair and going back to the one on his desk. Sarrelle's file was woefully devoid of personal details, but his criminal record was extensive. Multiple accounts of abduction, rape and drug offences, but no convictions due to lack of evidence. Hardly uncommon in South Africa, Ruan thought grimly. Anyone with enough money and the right connections could make charges disappear. Sarrelle was one of the abduction team's most wanted, and most of them had found it hilariously ironic that the tables had now been turned.

Ruan could not deny that the world was probably a better place without him at large, but his job was to figure out these kidnappings and Sarrelle was now part of that puzzle. Flipping the folder closed he leaned back, staring at the wall on his right hand side. The plaster was pockmarked with cracks where the blob after blob of blue tack had peeled away the layers of paint – he would definitely need to get that redone once this case was over. The sprawling mind map of photographs, maps and scraps of paper connected by red string went from floor to ceiling and was only a few more incidents away from touching the ends of the wall. There was a corkboard buried underneath there somewhere, but cases rarely stayed confined to such a small space.

Some of Ruan's younger colleagues laughed at his old school approach to a case, preferring to draw their own mind maps on their tablets. But Ruan liked his wall. It was a practical approach to finding his way through the maze of each case.

A ring of string connected all the individuals over one specific detail, and it was the one currently giving Ruan his biggest headache. It was the only consistency in a mixture of age, race, socioeconomic background, employment and family. Each of the victims had glaring inconsistencies with their personal details. Employment contracts, school records, medical history, births, deaths and marriages were often missing, or had large gaps that were unable to be explained. Even their ID, which was mandatory for any South Africa citizen over the age of sixteen, had proven no help. Several of them were in fact very clever forgeries. The data that the officers had been able to scrape together was second hand, often collected from neighbours or other family members, and was nowhere near as reliable as an official document.

 _It's like a cult,_ Ruan reflected. _All these people trying to live off the grid._ He could not fathom it. In this day and age, nobody could walk through life without leaving a footprint. People's lives were recorded from the day that they were born until the day that they died. Finding a group of victims who did not seem to exist was deeply disconcerting.

Sighing heavily, he turned away from the wall. No inspiration was striking him right now, but it would, hopefully before Kloeter returned from Pretoria in three days. The case was starting to attract media attention, and the commissioner would want something to tell them if it escalated.

The problem was, there was nothing to tell. Whoever was seizing these people was good at vanishing without a trace. Well, not completely without a trace, Ruan thought cynically, but a puddle of water was not exactly a clue. He had wondered if it was a calling card of some description, but if it was, it did not mean much to any of them, and if it meant something to the Shadowchasers, they certainly were not telling.

On instinct, Ruan reached for the top drawer of his desk and pulled out another folio. Unlike the others, this one was fat and detailed. He was not supposed to have it, but one of the archives team owed him a favour. It bent the rules just enough to make him uncomfortable, but he disliked Bastien Holst showing up at his crime scenes too much to feel guilty for nicking his file any more.

This file was far more informative than the victims. School. Community college. White South African family. One brother who lived in Durban, and one sister who had emigrated to Washington DC. Both parents still living in Cape Town. Married at twenty to Theresa "Thera" De Groot. Widowed at twenty four. Ruan did feel a stab of pity for Bastien at that last detail – an RTA with drowning was a horrible way to go. He had wondered if becoming a Shadowchaser was perhaps a result of this loss. Vigilante and terrorist groups often looked for vulnerable young men to recruit. But that did not quite match up – according to Bastien's tax returns, he had been a Shadowchaser since he had turned twenty one.

The actual organisation itself was shrouded in more mystery than all of the victims on the wall put together. Perhaps understandably, the best place to get information on them was the dark web. But that only resulted in page after page of conspiracy theories and tall tales of magic and monsters, all of which Ruan had groaned at. He appreciated that everyone was entitled to believe what they wanted, and that understanding superstition and religion often went a long way to understanding what drove criminals to do the things they did. But it never failed to make him despair when he found a victim that had been driven out and murdered by a village because he was 'possessed', or had to investigate another corrective rape precipitated by the need to drive the 'devil' inside the poor woman out. It was enough to turn anyone to staunch atheism.

Footsteps approached and he slammed Bastien's folder closed and slid it back into his top drawer. Best nobody saw that.

"Here we go," Sven reappeared, a steaming mug in one hand, and a folder in the other. "Last of the forensics from the car."

"Anything interesting?" Ruan asked hopefully, taking hold of his tea and taking a sip, ignoring how it burned his mouth. He was pretty sure he already knew what the answer was going to be, but he was still disappointed as Sven predictably shook his head.

"On the bright side – we now have Sarrelle's DNA on file," the younger man gave a smile. "Might be useful in the future if we get him out of this mess."

Credit where it was due, Ruan thought. Everyone else in the team was starting to become dispirited over the lack of leads in this case, and Sven was trying really hard to keep morale up. He was permanently optimistic, and Ruan made a note to recommend him for a bonus once this case concluded.

"It's the most concrete thing we have about him," he muttered, nodding to the stack of files. "No birth records. No ID. Nothing but the DNA he left behind." He leaned back in his chair, turning his attention back to the wall. "Why would you erase your existence like that? What are they all trying to hide?"

Folding his arms, Sven leaned against the wall, his eyes thoughtfully tracing the wall. "Maybe they're trying to make it so nobody can find them? I mean, if you were wanted by a gang or something…"

Frowning Ruan hummed his disagreement in the back of his throat. "Going off the grid to get away from a street gang is a bit extreme. Just leave the country if you're that desperate. Put some distance between them and you – problem solved. No," he shook his head. "Something about that missing information connects all these people. Age, school or work, a family tie-"

"Speaking of family," Sven put in, his own face frowning as he remembered something. "I've been keeping an eye on the switchboard all day. Not one person has called us to see if we're making any progress locating their missing family members. That's a bit weird, isn't it?"

Ruan blinked. "Extremely. You mean nobody's called this week?"

"Nobody's called at all," Sven corrected. "After I noticed it, I went through the call archives all the way back to the first reported disappearance. Not one family member has called us for an update."

Ruan got to his feet, his mind scrambling to marshal his thoughts. If Marina or Vi were kidnapped, he knew he'd be calling the police every day to ask for news. It was true that the SAPS still had a bad reputation for corruption and generally not giving a shit, but the fact that none of the families had even tried to get in touch was alarming.

"Ruan!"

His train of thought was derailed. Standing next to Sven was Minnie Ntumba, holding onto the doorframe and catching her breath. Her jeans and leathers were dust-streaked – clearly she had just come off the road. She was head of the Vehicle Thefts Unit in Cape Town and she and Ruan often worked together on carjackings.

"You need to come see this." No further explanation was offered before she turned on her heel and vanished back down the corridor, clearly expecting him to follow. Sven blinked, apparently still not used to the whirlwind that was Minnie. Ruan on the other hand, rounded his desk before he could lose her completely.

"Get the phone numbers of the family members from Harriet," he ordered. "Then see if Zola's free. We'll do some calls when I get back."

"Got it," Sven was already off, and Ruan locked his office door behind him before hurrying after Minnie. She was already half way down the corridor, calling the lift. Ruan knew she was busy, and if she had trekked all this way to find him it must be important.

"What happened?" he asked, falling into step beside her as the elevator dinged.

"Traffic cams flagged a vehicle speeding on the N1," Minnie launched into her explanation without preamble as they got into the lift. She hit the button for the ground floor. "We IDed it as stolen – silver VW Polo, reported early this morning. Ploughed through two roadblocks and sent five people to hospital before we managed to run him off just past Cape Gate. He got out and started running, but we pinned him before he got too far."

Ruan nodded to show that he was listening, but he could not help but wonder where he came into all this. "Who was the driver?"

"Conall Duru according to his ID. Forty six, white South African. No criminal record on file – not even a parking ticket. Two kids – Celia and Heiko. They were in the back seat of the car, both pretty shaken up by their dad's behaviour."

Ruan drew a sharp breath between his teeth. "Some kind of psychotic episode?" It was the only reasoning he could think of for an apparently model citizen to willingly endanger his children.

"That's what we thought at first," Minnie agreed, marching out as the doors slid open. "He was screaming blue murder when we grabbed him - certainly sounded like a nutter. But then he started begging. Turns out he knows about all your kidnappings and he's somehow convinced that he's going to be next if he doesn't get out of the city."

Now his interest was piqued – Ruan followed her out of the elevator his mind alight with intrigue. "What's he basing this conviction on?"

"God knows," Minnie exclaimed, turning down the corridor that lead to the interrogation rooms. "Might have known one of the victims. Might have just read about it in the paper. Or maybe he's actually insane – I've put a call in for a psych evaluation."

She waved her ID card in front of the lock and opened the doors. The interrogation rooms were always silent – each wall was fully soundproofed. You could have a rave down here and the rest of the building would have been blissfully unaware, Ruan always thought. Heading into the observation area for room three, they found Minnie's team talking animatedly, several watching through the one way glass.

"What did I miss?" Minnie asked. Several of her teammates jumped to attention at her entrance. Steve, her second in command was shaking his head, a pitying look on his face.

"He's definitely lost it, Min," he declared. "Soon as you left he bit his thumb open and started drawing blood on himself."

He nodded into the room. Through the smoky glass, Ruan saw a weedy looking man with pale blonde hair and ridiculously violet eyes. Though his wrists were cuffed together, he had managed to paint blood all over his upper arms. Shaky circles that had dribbled down his skin were filled with swirling lines and symbols, the meaning of which they could only guess.

"Y'know I'm sure my grandmother has a crochet blanket with that pattern," one of the junior officers remarked lightly. Several people sniggered.

"He can't be in his forties," Ruan shook his head, watching the offender rock back and forth in his chair. "He doesn't look a day over twenty five."

"Funny you should mention it," Steve put in. "CRC called about a minute before you arrived. They ran his ID through the system. It's fake."

Minnie's eyebrows lifted. "The plot thickens. Has he said anything?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Not that we can understand. Chanting some kind of gibberish. We recorded it if you want to listen."

"Maybe later," Minnie waved the offer off and turned to Ruan. "You want to sit this one in with me and Steve, or do you want to listen out here?"

Ruan had no hesitation – he wanted to come in. Already he was drawing up a list of questions in his head, and he followed his two colleagues in without a word. As soon as they entered Conall stopped his anxious rocking, his eyes immediately latching onto the group of police.

"Where are the kids?" he demanded frantically. "Are they safe?"

"Interview continuing at fourteen forty nine," Minnie spoke into the dictaphone, her tone level and professional. "Detective Nkhosi has joined the room." Settling the device onto the table, she sat down in the chair, leaving Steve and Ruan to flank her. "Your children are fine Conall. One of the officers is watching them until social services get here – I imagine they'll call your sister."

She was playing it friendly and approachable, Ruan realised. A smart choice when dealing with someone who might have mental health problems. Addressing Conall by his first name and assuring him that his children were fine made her seem like the good cop. Unconsciously, he felt his stance relaxing so as not to intimidate the man.

Conall's head collided with the desk. "No no no! She can't take them home! She needs to get them out!" Over and over he slammed his head into the metal. Ruan was only half a step behind Steve, pinning their prisoner back into his chair while Steve wrapped a restraining belt around his chest to hold him in place.

"I'm sure they will be safe with Gelehrin," Minnie said firmly. "Now let's go back to you. You've made a bit of a mess of yourself."

She nodded towards the markings he had made on his arms. Close up, Ruan could see the symbols, smudged with sweat and shaky fingers. The injured thumb, ignored for a few minutes now, had now started to clot. Conall started rocking in his chair again, jerking against the restraints as he went.

"You have to tell her," his breathing was frantic. "Tell her to get them out of the city! They're not safe here!"

"Okay, why aren't they safe here?" Seeing that she was not going to get any answers about the mess he had made on his arms, Minnie decided to play along with his train of thought. Still poised behind him in case he tried to struggle again, Ruan waited, anticipation starting to build.

"You know why – the kidnappings!" Conall gave a wrench against the restraining strap, but it held firm. "None of us are safe! We all need to leave!"

Minnie pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose. "Alright, I don't know what you've heard in the news, but only twelve people have gone missing in those disappearances. So unless you have some sort of connection to them, there's no reason to think that they might be targeting you."

Ruan frowned slightly – that was a leading question, and was not strictly ethical, but he decided to let it slide. Conall meanwhile had stopped thrashing, but now his body heaved with sobs. Tears of frustration were glistening in his eyes.

"You don't understand! She doesn't want you! She doesn't want any of you! She's only interested in us!"

"Sorry, _she_?" Ruan had to interject. "Are you saying the person behind these kidnappings is a woman?" Until now the responsible party had been an unknown, the victims vanishing without so much as a trace. Across the table, Minnie leaned back in her seat, clearly happy for the reigns to be temporarily taken.

"That's what the Shadowchasers said!" Conall was speaking frantically, as though trying to push his train of thought out so that it could be seen and understood. "They said she's a witch - she has to be! She took twenty in a single second without leaving a trace!"

All of Ruan's hopes, which had risen when Conall had started to speak, crashed instantly at the mention of the word 'witch'. His patience drained like water from a sink – he did not have time to deal with fantasy right now.

"You're going to have to slow down, Conall," Minnie said, patiently and calmly trying to apply some breaks to the man's train of thought. "Are you saying another twenty people have disappeared?"

The man shook his head so hard that Ruan worried his neck would snap. "Not people - unicorns! Gods you just don't get it! You have to let me go! She's getting stronger each time she takes them! The kids can't stay here - we'll be next!"

Over by the back wall, Steve rolled his eyes heavenward at the nonsense spewing from their captive's mouth and Ruan was inclined to agree with him. Unicorns and witches? Who did Conall think he was fooling? He had either genuinely lost it, or he was setting up for some kind of insanity plea.

"Okay…you think because this…witch has taken twenty…unicorns…that she's going to come after you and your kids?" Minnie was visibly struggling with her incredulity. Ruan bet that she had never expected that she would have to utter that sentence when she had become an officer. Come to think of it, it wasn't a sentence that he had ever expected to hear either. Conall's only response was to burst into terrified sobs again.

"What exactly did the Shadowchasers say to you?" A little desperate for something concrete to come out of this madness, Ruan pushed on. "How do they know the person behind the kidnappings is a woman?"

"I don't know!" Conall's cries were hysterical. "I didn't ask! But they're the best we have! If they say she's a witch I believe them! And I'm getting as far away as possible!"

Ruan's frustration was starting to reach a new peak. Just what else did the Shadowchasers know that they weren't telling them?

A knock on the window interrupted Minnie before she could ask another question. Either the psych team were there or social services had arrived. Their prisoner seemed to realise it too.

"Gelehrin's here, isn't she? You have to tell her!" he lurched against his chair in a sudden burst of desperation. "Make her listen! Tell her to get them out! She came for the unicorns and she'll come for us next! Listen to me! Listen!"

He was pulling, wrenching and slamming so hard against the straps that Ruan was positive his bones would break. The door from the observation room was shouldered open and a large woman strode in, hands sheathed in latex gloves, a syringe already in hand. It was Zola, the on-duty psychiatrist, and Ruan immediately stepped in to secure the thrashing man to the chair. Steve came up the other side and pinned his arm still.

"Easy Conall," Zola's voice was melodic and soothing, even as she found the vein, uncapped the needle and carefully slid it home. The man screamed straight into Ruan's ear, but it sounded more frustrated than pained. "Just relax for me. There we go."

It took a moment for the sedative to start working. Conall strained against the chokehold that Ruan now had him in, but eventually the tension started to drain and his body went limp like an old doll. Convinced that he wasn't going to hurt himself anymore, Ruan released him.

"Mr Duru has been sedated for his own safety," Minnie spoke into the Dictaphone once more. "Interview terminated fifteen o one."

She pocketed the machine and stood up. "Guess I'll have to interview him about his forged ID later."

Pulling wrinkles out of his shirt, Ruan felt a stab of guilt – he had derailed the questioning somewhat.

"Meli, Thulani. Can you take him down to a cell? Put him on suicide watch – I want to know the second he wakes up." Allowing the two larger members of her team in, Minnie strode out with a disappointed sigh. Ruan followed along, fully intending to apologise.

"Think I need a shower to wash off the crazy," Steve declared, tossing one final look over his shoulder at the unconscious figure drooling on the interrogation table.

"That's not nice," Minnie admonished her second in command sharply. "He's clearly having a breakdown."

"I agree." Zola nodded sadly. She had tossed her gloves into a bin, and was now skimming over the notes she had taken from the observation room as they headed back to the corridor. "I'll do a proper evaluation later once he's calmed down, but I'm pretty sure we'll need to transfer him to Valkenberg. I'll give them a call and see if they've got space for a short-term patient."

Ruan nodded. Valkenberg was the nearest psychiatric hospital, and nobody was going to argue that Conall probably needed it. At the very least he needed regular sedation so he didn't hurt himself.

"Sorry that wasn't much help to you," Minnie said to him. "Just a lot of nonsense."

"Story of this case's life," Ruan admitted. "If it makes you feel better, he's not the first to blame this entire thing on fairytales." Seeing Minnie's confusion, he explained. "The Shadowchasers keep trying to tell me it's all because of magic."

Minnie rolled her eyes. "Nutters. The pair of them."

"Why do you get to say it, and I don't?" Steve asked huffily.

Before Minnie could answer there was a knock on the door behind them, and another of the team appeared, panting heavily – he had clearly been running.

"Hi Dean. Social services here?" Minnie asked hopefully. Ruan did not blame her – at this rate, she was far more likely to get sensible answers out of the children.

"No," still trying to catch his breath, Dean shook his head. "They're not here. Gelehrin Duru arrived – she's taken the twins."

"What?!" Minnie rounded on her subordinate with barely contained outrage. "I gave Catlin instructions that they weren't to go anywhere until we'd interviewed them!"

She was already charging out of the interview room with a face like thunder. Ruan hurried after her.

"I think Cat's come down with something," Dean explained, struggling to keep up with his boss. "She says Gelehrin just barged in unescorted - no idea how she got in. She told her she couldn't take the kids until social services got here. Next thing she knew she was on the floor, and the twins were gone. I had control call an ambulance – I think she whacked her head when she went down. Her speech is slurred."

Minnie swore, already pulling out her phone and dialling through to the switchboard for more information. Ruan felt the same rush he felt out in the field. People were often violent when they were arrested, and outbursts in custody were common, but never before had there been a kidnapping on site to his recollection.

The relatives room was only a few corridors away, but a hive of activity was starting to swarm into the area as more officers appeared to lend their help to the incident. From the booking-in station, Ruan could hear shouting – Scholtz the desk sergeant was clearly furious and had a voice that travelled easily through walls.

"How the hell does a civilian wander through three locked doors without being spotted by any of you lot?!"

Ruan winced – clearly Cat wasn't the only one who had slacked off. Minnie did not stop to listen, instead elbowing people out of the way as she charged into the relatives room. Ruan followed, doing a mental count of the doors in the building as he went. Sure enough, Scoltz was right – between reception and this area there were three access points that needed a key card to enter. How on earth had someone managed to get past them?

The room was already full of people, but they parted as Minnie appeared. Ruan opted to hover by the door, not wanting to get in the way. One custody officer was stationed outside the door, while another stood by the windows. Cat lay on the floor in the recovery position, with one colleague gently applying pressure to her head with a pad of gauze, while another covered her with a blanket. A trickle of blood had stained the carpet. Ruan kicked himself for being so uncharitable to her a second earlier – she looked terrible, and as Minnie crouched beside her and began to talk, she began to vomit over her boss's boots.

"How did she manage to break in?" he asked, his eyes wandering up and down the corridor, scanning for possible hints. In addition to the three keycard doors, Gelehrin would have needed to bypass the front desk and two of the busiest corridors in the station to get to the children. One or two officers missing her might be plausible, but there would have been at least triple that on that route.

"I'm pulling up the security feed now," still trying to catch his breath, Dean joined him against the wall, wincing as he caught the sounds of Cat upchucking again. Like most of the younger members of staff, he carried his tablet with him at all times and he quickly logged in to the intranet and pulled up the relevant programme.

Each ground floor feed was visible in a tile on the screen. The camera quality was not the best - the station lacked the necessary funds to move to higher graphics - but it was clear enough to have a clear view of the people walking backwards as Dean swiped the screen to rewind the footage.

"The vehicle's been IDed," Minnie appeared from the room, her fists clenched. "Heading down the N2. Switch are putting a team together. I'm going."

"Take Thombi with you," Ruan was already texting his second in command - for all intents and purposes, this was now a kidnapping. Thombi was level-headed and calm - perfect for a sensitive family matter like this. "Give me a call if you need backup."

"What the hell?" Dean was incredulous as he stared at the screen. Tapping the rewind button again, he held out the screen so that the two senior officers could see.

The feed showed the exterior corridor - Gelehrin had already bypassed the front desk and the key card check somehow. Ruan recognised her instantly - she and her brother had the same features and bone structure. Also like her brother, she did not look a day over twenty five. She had no skittishness or quick urgency that most people had when they were sneaking somewhere they were not supposed to - rather she strode down the corridor as if she belonged there, her chin lifted, and her eyes narrowed and focused. As she reached the end of the corridor, she came to another locked door that lead to the detention facilities.

After twenty years in the force, Ruan had thought that nothing could surprise him. But as Gelehrin breezed up to the door and pushed the unresisting metal open without breaking her stride, he felt his jaw drop.

"It's broken!" Minnie exclaimed.

"No, she did the same thing to the first one too," Dean shook his head, and Ruan knew he was right - they had tapped their way through that door not two minutes ago, and while he did it without thinking most of the time, he had registered the tell tale hum and click of the lock disengaging. In such an emergency, he would have noticed if it hadn't been there.

"Here she goes again," Dean had switched feeds to the next corridor - the one through the door on Ruan's right hand side. Sure enough, Gelehrin seized the handle and pushed it open unhindered.

"That's not possible!" Minnie threw up her hands at the insanity, while Ruan moved a few steps down the corridor and leaned his full weight on the door. Sure enough, it failed to budge. Just to be sure, he waved his card in front of the reader and it clicked open instantly.

"She just touched it and it opened," Dean shrugged helplessly.

"Don't be daft," Minnie admonished. "You can't just touch a secure lock and magically make it open at will!"

Something about her words rang in Ruan's head, as he examined the door again. Once more it failed to budge open until he presented his card. Yet he had just seen Gelehrin push it open with no impediment.

"She must have found a way to deactivate the system," Minnie was saying, turning to Dean. "Go and get Scholtz and tell him to confirm everyone who has a keycard still has one! Then do a systems check and see if we got hacked and someone put a backdoor in or learned how to make their own!"

"Is that even possible? Our building's on its own server and wifi - you can't get in unless you're already in the building and someone must have seen her if she-" He broke off at the look at her face and nodded. "Right. Talk to Scholtz. On it."

He scampered off like a frightened gazelle.

"You sure you want to be on the response team?" normally Ruan would never have questioned it - Minnie was highly professional - but her reaction was so passionately angry that he had to wonder if sending her on a sensitive mission was wise.

"This was my case, and Cat is my team member," Minnie's eyes darted back to the room, where her underling had fallen silent again. "She's worked for me for four years - she's never taken a day off sick, not even when we have flu outbreaks. I don't buy that after four years of perfect health she drops unconscious right after she refuses this woman custody of her niece and nephew. It's far too convenient."

The implication struck Ruan hard in the chest. "You think she attacked her?"

Minnie shrugged, but her feelings were obvious. Her phone vibrated and she glanced at the message.

"Team is being briefed. I have to go."

Ruan watched her leave, the wheels already turning in his mind. It was a tenacious, tentative link at best - Conall was clearly not in his right state of mind, and it would be easy to just dismiss him as a madman. But even a crazy person could not fake that kind of concern, and it had been clear to all present that he was desperate to ensure the safety of his children. His breakdown may be ridiculous, but the fear that fuelled it was real.

And then there was the sister - Gelehrin - walking through corridors unseen, and opening locked doors by touching them. Ruan was not sure what to think. Minnie was right that Cat was not the kind to just faint for no reason - her constitution was sturdy as a rock. But from the view he had had on the camera, Gelehrin was as willowy and slender as her brother - not nearly strong enough to attack and incapacitate a trained officer.

 _She must have some kind of technology,_ he rationalised. _One that could bypass our security system. You can't just magically open doors and knock out officers-_

He paused, frowning. There was that word again. He had been listening to Conall too long. _Don't be daft, Ruan. There's no such thing as magic._

This whole case was spreading like the norovirus over a cruise ship, wider and wider, drawing more people into its grasp. The more people disappeared, the more fear began to spread. Conall had mentioned twenty more people disappearing. Was that true? That brought their total up to over thirty. This was rapidly starting to feel bigger than anything he or his team could handle.

Ruan started to his office, already mentally adding Gelehrin and Conall to his wall of pictures. Conall might be crazy, but his fear was real. If he believe that he was a target, then Ruan believed him too. And if he was, it would only be a matter of time before the case drew him in completely.

And when it did, Ruan intended to be there.

OOO

"Ooo you look beautiful!" Vi squealed. Marina blushed.

"Hardly. I haven't had time to touch up my hair or make up since this morning-"

"Oh hush and let your daughter compliment you." Waving a hand from the large wicker chair, Lihle leaned back and enjoyed the spectacle of her daughter performing a giddy yet nervous twirl. Loitering by the sliding doors, Becky observed with a small smile. It had been a long and very tense morning. Andi and Vi were still annoyed with her, and the prospect of an afternoon shopping with their cold shoulders and hawkeyed expressions was only souring her mood. Her grandmother had tagged along and done her best to mediate, but it was clear that even her patience was not indefinite.

Becky had to admit, a part of her had been tempted to just run off again. Marina's maid of honour lived in Milnerton, a short bike ride from the city centre. But she had made a promise. The prospect of disappointing her sister and cousin did not bother her. The prospect of disappointing her grandmother on the other hand, was not acceptable in the least. She wondered what that said about her as a person.

"How's the bust-line?" Maid of honour Anna, was circling the bride critically, a box of pins already waiting in her hand. "If you need me to take it in a bit more that's not a problem."

Marina tested this by bouncing up and down on her spot, her eyes fixed on the top hemline. "Nope. I think we're secure. You've done an amazing job, Anna."

It was true and the results were magnificent. Marina's dress was A-line, strapless, white, and edged in black down the front and along the top. More black piping ran around her waist in simple diamond shapes. Becky was not certain what she had been expecting, but now that she saw the dress, she knew it was perfect for her aunt. Western dresses were becoming more and more popular in South African weddings with each year. Becky had seen the photos from the last wedding and knew that Marina had worn the traditional beaded gown when she had been eighteen. This was definitely more _her_.

"Are you wearing that for the ceremony on Sunday too?" Andi asked, a little apprehensively. As glamorous as the gown was, it was too revealing for a Xhosa service. Lihle snorted.

"You must be joking - the mother of the groom would have a stroke!"

"I'm wearing mum's old dress," Marina put in, as Elize shot their mother a look that was equal parts reproving and exasperated. "We figured since she'd held onto it for so long, we may as well use it again."

"That's sweet," Becky said, feeling that she should contribute something to the discussion less she come off as rude. "Has it been altered? Nana's a little more..."

"Magnificent?" Lihle winked at her. Becky's mother clucked disapprovingly, and was ignored by everyone in favour of snickering. "Don't worry dear. Not much altering was needed. Remember I was married long before my surgery so I was significantly less magnificent back then."

"That's enough, Mum," Elize put in firmly, before turning to her sister. "Let's box this up before it gets wrinkled, and go get some lunch."

As she made to help Marina with the zip, Becky caught Lihle's eyes rolling skyward.

"Does she really think that cancer has ears? That it'll come back if we talk about it?" she leaned over the arm of her seat and dropped her voice to a whisper.

"Probably," Lihle shrugged, before offering her granddaughter a smile. "It may seem irrational to you, dear, but she was young, and that fear is as real to her as her own heartbeat. We just have to accept that."

Becky pouted. "I don't know if I want to, Nana. She worries all the time – it can't be healthy for her. A little thing starts to go wrong and she goes into meltdown."

"They might seem little to you," another voice interjected sternly. "But if you stopped and put yourself in her place for a moment, you might see things differently."

Becky narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Since when do you take Mum's side?" she demanded, suspiciously. Andi complained about their mother's overbearing behaviour more than anybody. She just shrugged her folded arms.

"Since I got a taste of your idea of 'little things' yesterday."

"Andiswa, stop trying to pick a fight," Lihle warned, but the younger teen was already smirking, convinced that she had proved her point. For a long while, Becky could only gape. Then she kicked the chair back and got to her feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" Andi demanded, her voice loud and pointed.

"Out! I need some air." She did not mean to shout, but her sister's voice was raised, and she felt like she had to fight back with her own volume. Anna and Elize were still busy with the bride, but Vi had started to pay attention.

"Mum said you're staying with us!" Andi reminded her, dropping to the floor with a shriek, as Becky turned and pitched her keys like a bowler at her sister's head. They clattered disappointingly to the floor, leaving their owner to march out of the sliding door and into the sunshine.

Seething, Becky thrust her hands deep into her pockets and took off at a brisk walk down the residential street. The other houses were quiet, with most of the occupants at work, but as she emerged onto the main road, the noise picked up again. The road lined the edge of the Dieprivier, a narrow, deep canal of water with a dusty footpath at the top, dotted with short stubby bushes. From one of the nearby streets, a toddler cried, and up above seagulls called out over the din, vanishing in and out of the slow moving clouds.

She had not intended to go far, but she did not want to stop. She was worried that if she went back in she would only erupt at her sister, and there was no way she would do that in a stranger's house. She had her phone, but Judy and Emily, her usual sympathetic ears, both had class at this time on a Wednesday. For now, she was on her own. At least her grandmother seemed to be on her side. That was a consoling thought.

More than a little fed up, Becky forced herself to stop and sit down heavily on the edge of the esplanade behind one of the few scrubby bushes that had been allowed to grow. Below her, the Dieprivier washed lazily against the concrete canal, the lampposts, stone benches and a narrow strip of grass behind her all that separated it from the road. She swung her legs over the edge and kicked them back and forth, her eyes drifting idly across the water, watching the shadow of a cloud dance back and forth.

She blinked once, and then again, as she realised that the clouds had moved on, but the dark shadow remained, moving slowly beneath her feet in a strong, smooth forward paddle up the river. Her eyes, round in astonishment, widened even further as she registered the movements of four large flippers, and the slight incline and drop of a head. Her heart raced in excitement, and she frantically scanned the wall below her. Ten feet down the path a shallow ladder had been set into the concrete, allowing maintenance to be carried out during low tide, and she sprinted for it as the shadow continued its slow drift down the water. Clambering down to the surface, she gripped the slippery wooden rung, and stretched down as far as she could go. The tide was high, and her hand dipped into the water up to the wrist before she began splashing.

For a long agonising moment, she was sure she was too late. Then slowly the shadow began a steady turn, pivoting like a slow motion ballerina, studying her from the safety below. Becky immediately stopped splashing, and instead shuffled down another rung and reached in as far as she could, her fingers stretching out in a silent plea. Slowly, the shape became darker and more defined as it rose closer to the surface, and Becky swallowed as she realised that those weren't giant flippers - they were _enormous_ flippers. The water swirled around her skin, and she could feel her other hand still gripping the wood to steady herself was getting slowly more and more sweaty as ridges and peaks became clearer on the shell. The head lifted the last few inches, pressing leathery skin into her palm, before it broke the surface with a spray of silty water.

Trembling, Becky slowly gave the massive head of the dragon turtle one gentle stroke, before she withdrew a little to let it rise the rest of the way. The creature was the size of a prime bull, but instinct told her that this could only be an infant, as it reached up to nuzzle at her hand some more. A plaintive croon came from its throat, before breaking into the unmistakable sound of humpback whale cries. The noise sent a shiver down Becky's spine.

"I'm sorry little one," she said, stroking the end of the dragon turtle's beak with her thumb. "I don't speak whale."

She had no idea what had compelled her to speak, let alone in her mother tongue. So she was understandably shocked when the turtle stopped it's anxious whines, and began to click back at her in Xhosa.

"Have you seen my mummy?"

Becky's heart, already somewhere in her throat, suddenly sank back to her stomach in pity. "No, I haven't. Are you lost?"

He had to be lost - she could not imagine dragon turtles choosing to live in such a shallow, narrow and public stretch of river such as this. The water was soaking up the sleeve of her jacket, and she hastily stripped it off, balled it up and tossed it back up to the top of the wall as the turtle floated next to her. He nudged at her hand, leaning into her, almost defeated.

"A monster took her." If dragon turtles could cry, this little one would have been flooding the river now, as he gazed at her with big, sad eyes. "It pulled her deep deep down. I couldn't keep up. I don't know where it's taken her…"

Her heart, already on a rollercoaster, now broke for the lost baby, and Becky barely held back tears of her own, as she continued to stroke the massive head. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, and make everything better. But what on earth could she do?

"When did the monster take her?" she asked. "How many sunrises ago?"

"Two," He nosed her palm again. "I'm hungry…"

The helplessness dissipated in the wake of a more short term problem. This was something that she could fix. And she knew how to do it.

"Hang on," she said, carefully extracting her hand. The water began to chop in a violent panic.

"Don't leave me!" the baby wailed, struggling to press himself as close to the wall as he could. Leaning down again, Becky gave him another stroke.

"I'm not. I promise. I'm just getting some help. I will be two seconds."

Giving him one last pet, she pulled herself up the ladder and back behind her bush, and felt for her phone in her jacket pocket. She was relieved when she found Bastien near the top of her contacts list.

"Was wondering if I'd hear from you today," he greeted, sounding as cheerful and charming as ever. "You haven't found any more tokoloshe roaming Cape Town, have you? Because we seem to be tripping over them today."

Surprised, but smiling none the less, Becky put the immediate questions out of her mind. "No tokoloshe, Bastien. I'm on Esplanade Street in Milnerton, next to the Dieprivier – behind a bush opposite Orangia Road. There's a baby dragon turtle down here."

There was a long silence on the other end, and she wondered for a moment if the connection was dead.

"How the hell did a baby dragon turtle get down the Dieprivier?" the reply was faint with astonishment.

The little creature whined helplessly again, and Becky felt her impatience begin to rear. "I don't know, but I'm not making it up. I can take a photo if you want."

"No no, I believe you," her colleague assured her. "Just...wow. Okay, what does it want?"

"His mother," Becky's head darted left and right, thinking how it would be just her luck if her own mother decided to show up now. "I'm guessing you haven't seen a lone one wandering in the bay lately?"

"No, but..." Bastien seemed to have been distracted by his own thoughts, and he hissed through his teeth. "Right stay there. Thando and I are in Khayelitsha right now, but I'm calling Serena. She's a marine biologist. She'll help you."

"Tell her to bring food," she said, before hanging up and folding her phone and jacket under the bush. After a moment's thought, her shoes and socks joined them, and she carefully slid her way back down the ladder. "Help is on the way, little one."

She gently rubbed his nose, and the little creature gave a sad mew.

"I miss mummy..."

"I know," leaning back against the ladder with one arm linked through the rung, Becky dipped her feet in the water and began to kick them slowly back and forth. "Being lost is scary. You've been so brave coming up here by yourself."

"Mummy said only talk to humans in an emergency," the baby sniffed, resting his head against her leg. Becky marvelled at how such a large creature could tread water with such ease. "I tried up and down here, but none of them could see me. And when I tried to leave again, the water had disappeared..." He shuddered. "I didn't know the water could stop."

That explained it, Becky thought. The tide must have gone out and stranded him in here.

"Up here, where the humans are," she said, scratching above his eye ridges. "It does stop. We don't do well in water like you do. Your mummy was right – you should only talk to us in emergencies. Not all humans are nice."

"You're nice," the baby said, nosing her again. She smiled, and tapped her cheek just below her mark.

"You see this? This means I'm a Shadowchaser. Most of us are nice."

The huge eyes seemed to brighten. "Mummy talks to the man-fishes about Shadowchasers. She said you were good humans."

"Man-fi...oh! There are merefolk around here?" Becky couldn't say she was surprised, though she still had yet to see one – being triple landlocked, Nebraska was not the best state for aquatic Shadowkind. The baby nodded.

"Sometimes they say hello to us when we travel with the blowers." He was getting excited now, and his back flippers had begun to tread faster, sending water swirling up against Becky's shins. "They use click words like you."

"You travel with the wha – blowers a lot?" Becky asked. "You must go all over the world." The baby nodded earnestly.

"The water is so big. It goes all the way to the end. It never stops. I've seen all of it."

He paused, and the excitement drained from him. "Except the bottom here. We don't go down to this bottom. Mummy says it's dangerous..."

His eyes turned sad again, and Becky did not need to finish that thought. Mummy had been right.

"What's your name, little one?"

"Koka," came the reply, a flipper lifting free of the surface and splashing back down again.

"I'm Becky."

"Becky." The baby tested the name before nuzzling her again. "I'm hungry..."

"I know sweetheart. Food will be here soon." She smiled. "Do you want to play a game while we wait?"

Those eyes brightened again. "I like games."

"Have you ever played Twenty Questions?"

"No."

"I'll show you."

She wasn't quite sure what she had been expecting. Possibly an infant who had never left his 'home' to be a little more naïve. But when Becky started the game, and Koka had guessed 'seagull' after only six questions, she had to quickly reassess her expectations. She had never appreciated just how hard it was to keep children entertained, but by the fourth round she was feeling more exhausted than any training session with Rayearth.

"Are you a whale – uh, a blower, I mean."

Koka giggled. "Yes!"

"Are you grey?"

"Nope!"

"Okay...so you're a whale, but not a southern right, a humpback or a grey..." her eyes snapped to the baby. "Wait, are you blue?

"Yes!"

"Are you a blue whale?"

"Yes!"

Becky clapped. "Nineteen questions. You almost had me there!"

The dragon turtle giggled. "Someday I'll be as big as a blue blower!"

"Really?" the Shadowchaser leaned against the beam. "Is that...how big all of you get?"

She had been about to ask if that was how big his mother was, but he looked so much happier now that she could not bring herself to make him sad again.

"We get huge!" Koka giggled. "When the humans go swimming in their big ships, I'll be able to chase them!"

Becky had a sudden mental image of a fully grown dragon turtle going after a cruise ship, and she managed to control her look of terror at the last moment. "Well don't scare anybody! Remember, not all humans are nice like me."

"You're nice," Koka objected.

"That's why I said 'like me'," she poked the tip of his nose and he dissolved into playful giggles. Over the splashing, Becky's ears caught the sound of shouting.

"Hello?"

Becky craned her neck up towards the wall, carefully stepping back onto the rungs. "Stay here." She told the baby, before hoisting herself back up to street level. "Serena?"

"That's me!" hurrying down the road was one of the most attractive women Becky had ever seen, and she understood immediately why Bastien had sent her. "You're Becky, yes?"

"Yeah. Good to see you," hooking her arm around the top of the ladder, Becky reached out a hand to shake hers. "Sorry, there's not much room down here."

"You're good," Serena assured her, tossing her jacket next to Becky's and peering over the edge of the wall. Only the slight widening of her eyes as she caught sight of Koka betrayed just how astonished she really was.

"That's not food," Koka sounded disappointed. Scrambling back down to the water-level, Becky laughed.

"No she's bringing the food," she corrected, scratching him above the eyes again. "Koka, this is Serena. She's going to help you."

The huge dark eyes swam with relief. "You'll help me find mummy?"

"Let's worry about you first, little one," Serena said, starting her descent on the ladder. Becky was surprised to see that in addition to her jacket, Serena had also shrugged off her jeans and shirt, leaving her in a swimsuit. Instead of joining her at the bottom of the ladder, she slid into the water and began to tread next to the turtle, stroking his nose in greeting. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

A shake of Koka's massive head, sent water swirling around them. "Just hungry."

"Okay, are you on solids or is your mother still chewing for you?" she asked. Another headshake responded. "Okay. I can manage that."

Hanging onto the edge of the ladder, she looked up at the Shadowchaser. "Becky, in my rucksack there are four bottles - two red, two green. Can you get one of the greens for me please? I also need the tape measure, meter stick and notebook."

Serena's rucksack was enormous, and Becky was sure she had seen everything when she unzipped it and found the biggest baby bottles she had ever seen in her life. The tape measure was wrapped around an underwater camera, and the notebook was wedged between sample containers and a bag of questionable smell. She decided that she did not want to probe further, and instead extracted the necessary equipment.

"What on earth is in there?" she asked, handing the green bottle to the biologist, a laugh entering her voice at the absurdity of the sight. It was nearly as long as her arm, and as thick as a branch.

"It's like a fish smoothie," Serena explained, securing the large rubber teat to the end of the bottle. "I guessed his diet would be closer to a dragon than a whale, so I blended it up before I left. There's some additional protein and vitamins in there too. I'm guessing he hasn't been fed in a while."

Koka swiftly proved her point by pouncing on the end of the bottle and sucking with all his might. Serena clung to the bottom of the ladder, laughing nervously as he relaxed, floating almost in a daze as he fed.

"Can you take over?" she asked, tilting the bottle as it began to empty. "It's just like feeding a baby. I just want to give him a check up while he's distracted."

Apprehensive, but not wanting to say no, Becky retook her place on the bottom rung, lurching as Koka almost wrenched the bottle from her hand. Spluttering, she gripped it as though her life depended on it, and adjusted her weight to stop her taking a tumble into the sea.

"Yeah, that happens with whales too," Serena laughed, sliding back into the water. "Babies are strong when there is food at stake!" She nodded at her bag. "There's another one in there, but I want to see if he keeps this one down first."

Koka's eyes sparkled hopefully, and Becky laughed.

"You heard her! Eat this one first. If you sick it back up, it'll just be wasted, and you'll be hungry again!"

He returned to sucking the bottle, but Becky swore he was almost pouting as Serena took the tape measure and meter stick and dove cleanly beneath the swell.

 _I'm feeding a dragon turtle,_ Becky thought to herself. _With a giant baby bottle. This will be one of those moments in my life where I wish someone had been taking photos._

A loud sucking noise brought her out of her wishful thinking, as Koka reached the end of the bottle. Tipping it the rest of the way, Becky watched the last few drops of mashed up fish vanished and she pulled it away before he could swallow any of the air.

"Mmm..." the baby was floating with a blissful expression on his face.

"Food coma," Becky chuckled, tossing the bottle back to the top of the wall as Serena popped back up for air.

"You look pretty healthy, young man," she assured him. "You've got a few scratches on your belly-"

Snapping out of his daze, Koka nodded. "The bottom scratched me when the water disappeared," he said. Becky pictured him beached on the bottom of the canal like the whales she saw in the news, and felt her stomach turn. Serena nodded.

"Okay. I'm just going to measure you. Try and keep still for me."

Asking a baby to keep still was like asking Kenshin to stop hacking your Facebook account, Becky thought, but she flipped the pad to a new page and began to jot down measurements regardless.

"It tickles!" Koka giggled, splashing around as Serena surfaced for a breath.

"Stay still, little one," she patted his shell before diving again. Becky marvelled at how easily she moved. If she had to guess Serena was definitely at least half nymph, and had probably spent most of her life in or near the water. As she surfaced once more, Becky could understand why people went nuts for them - graceful and with water glistening off her pale skin, she was simply breathtaking.

"Okay, back left flipper is one meter thirty two," the biologist reported, tossing the stick back up onto the wall again. "Front left is one forty three. Shell is one meter ninety eight at widest point which is the shoulders." She took a deep breath and dove again, and Becky scrambled to keep up with the measurements. She had no idea how Serena was managing it, with Koka still lazily paddling to keep himself afloat. "Nose to tail, three sixty two."

"Big boy," Becky said, as her companion pulled herself back onto the ladder.

"Could be," Serena commented, removing her goggles and looping the tape measure around her wrist. "I've never seen a dragon turtle, so I don't have any baseline to compare it to." Folding her arms on her knees, she leaned forwards. "Koka, how old are you?"

"Twelve years and three moons," the baby reported, sounding pleased that he could answer with such accuracy. It sent Becky's heart sinking back into her gut again. He was barely a newborn by dragon standards.

"Okay." If Serena was worried, she did not show it. "And where did you last see your mother?"

On cue, Koka's face fell. "In the bay. We were eating. The blowers were singing...then they stopped. Then a monster came from the dark. It pulled and Mummy shouted and then she was in the dark too."

Now Serena looked troubled. "Okay. How deep were you? Could you see any sunlight?"

"No...just the blue from the top." He looked sadly between them. "I couldn't see the monster. It came from the dark."

"I understand," Serena rubbed his nose. "Could you show me where in the bay your mother vanished?"

At this, the baby recoiled for the first time since surfacing. "No no no! It'll get me! Please don't let the monster get me too! Please!"

"It's okay," Becky leaned as far out as she could to scratch his eye ridges. "We won't let the monster get you."

"Yeah, we don't have to go back," Serena promised. "But your mother isn't the only one who's been – who disappeared recently."

She swallowed hard, and Becky wondered what she was missing.

"We don't need to go back," she continued. "But do you think you could take me close to where she was? Then I can talk to a group of merfolk I know and they can help me look for her."

Koka, who had submerged until only his head remained at the notion of going back, now rose a few nervous inches. "...how close?"

"As close as you're happy with," Serena assured. "I won't force you to go back. But it would help us find her if we have a better idea of where she was, and you're the only one who knows."

Slowly the dragon turtle emerged further, like a child reluctantly being forced out of bed. "You promise?"

"I promise."

"...okay," Koka nodded, before turning his beseeching gaze on Becky. "More food?"

She laughed, a little relieved to have something to break the sudden chill that had descended on the conversation. "If Serena says so."

"Serena says no," the half-nymph said. "Give it another half hour to see if your first bottle stays down. I just want to take a few pictures. Bastien will want to report this to Jalal." Catching Becky's eye, she added. "Get him to give you the full story. I want to get moving before the tide goes out and he's stuck here again."

She took several shots with the underwater camera, and a few with her phone (which a relieved Becky asked for copies of), stopping only to climb back up the ladder to take a phone call. Seeing Koka look anxious as the biologist vanished back on dry land, Becky slid completely into the water for a hug.

"You'll be okay," she promised. "Serena will look after you until you find your mum."

The baby nuzzled his head against her chest. It felt like boulder being pressed into her ribs, but the warmth such trusting affection gave her more than made up for it.

"She's a nice lady?" Koka checked quietly.

"She's very nice," Becky assured, rubbing his nose again.

"So are you," the dark eyes met hers with unrestrained happiness. "Thank you for being my friend, Becky."

She honestly thought that she might cry. Becky settled instead for giving him a kiss between the eyes.

"Okay," Serena interrupted, clambering back down the ladder. "My mother is anchored at Lagoon Beach, by the mouth of the river. I'll walk you over Koka, and then we can head back to the boat."

"Are we going to look now?" Koka asked, clearly torn between hope and terror.

"As fast as possible, little one," Serena said. His face fell, and Becky placed another scratch to his eye ridges.

"You'll be fine," she repeated. "You're a big brave boy."

A little cautious the baby nodded, and gave Becky one last nuzzle before sinking back below the water and starting a slow paddle back downstream.

"Poor thing," Becky said, pulling herself back up the wall, and contemplating how to ask the next question. "...his mother is dead, isn't she?"

Repacking the tape measure and notebook, Serena sighed heavily. "I think so. I'm still going to try. And if he can lead me to the place she went missing, we might be able to find something that will help."

She pulled the zipper closed decisively. Hearing a squelch as she stood up, Becky glanced down at her soaking jeans, and her t-shirt which was doing its best to show her bra to the entire world.

 _Worth it_ , she decided, as Serena pulled her rucksack onto her shoulders.

"What will happen to him?" she asked.

"Depends," Serena said. "I'll sleep on the boat for the rest of the week – make sure he's not alone. He's probably lost a bit of weight after not being fed...how long ago did he say his mother vanished?"

"Two days," Becky confirmed, gratefully accepting the offered towel and peeling off her shirt.

"Hmm...either way. I'll try and get him back up to full strength," Serena promised. "After that...I'm not sure. If I can wean him onto solid fish, maybe eventually we can find a Humpback pod for him to stick with."

"He did say they sometimes travelled with them," Becky remembered. "And he definitely speaks whale."

Serena was clearly running thoughts over in her head. Becky appreciated the enormity of the task she had given her.

"I need to get in touch with a few of the merfolk," the biologist eventually said. "Did you want to come along to the bay?"

However much her heart ached to stay with the little dragon turtle who had charmed her so easily, Becky already knew what her answer would be – what it _had_ to be.

"As much as I want to, I'd better get back to my family, and try to think of a reasonable story that will explain why I went swimming in the river." She glanced pointedly down at her clothes, before handing the towel back and slipping her jacket on over her bra – her shirt was beyond the help of the most powerful sunshine. "Can you give me a call later? Let me know how he's doing?"

"Sure."

They exchanged phone numbers, and a very damp hug, before the two women parted. Squinting down the river, Becky gave the biologist one final wave, before heading off back down the streets, leaving a trail of damp footprints behind her.

"There you are!" Ten minutes later, her mother found her sitting on Anna's front wall, baking in the sun. "Andi thought you'd run off aga-"

She broke off, seeing the puddle that had formed around Becky's feet where she had been wringing her shirt and socks out. Sighing heavily, she gave her mother a completely serious look.

"Don't ask." She said, before turning on her heel and heading for the house.

OOO

"They're like bloody buses!" Bastien complained. "You don't see one ever, and suddenly three come along at once!"

The hessian sack was really getting a workout today, as he strapped it to the back of his D-Wheel. The wriggling monster had struggled weakly against being restrained, but it was too dazed to do anything but growl as it felt the restraints tighten around it.

"Hey it's three less out on the street," Thando reminded him. "And we're lucky that we saw it. If that car hadn't hit it, we could have driven right past."

Bastien nodded. They were in Khayelitsha, one of the poorest areas of Cape Town, and home to a not inconsiderate portion of Shadowkind, who preferred to live under the radar. Around them houses leaned against each other in an effort to stay upright, made up of a jumbled mix of bare breeze block, corrugated sheets of metal and bits of battered wood. Though Apartheid had ended long ago, the area was still almost completely black, and desperately underserviced. Bastien was getting more and more uncomfortable the longer they stayed there, acutely aware that he and Thando were about to head back to the richest part of the city. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

They had just finished calling in with all the Shadowkind in the area, ensuring that nobody else had gone missing recently, when a battered white car had jerked to a stop down the street with a loud bang, a dent materialising in the front and cracking the one remaining headlight. The driver had thumped his head hard against the steering wheel from the impact, and while Thando went to check if he was alright, Bastien had scampered around to the front, and under the guise of checking how much damage there was, had thrown one of Thando's potion vials down to reveal the stunned tokoloshe lying under the left wheel.

"Not that bright, are they?" he muttered, shoving his helmet back on and kicking the bike into life, eager to be back home. The day had been long and trying, and yet at the same time, it felt like the calm before a very big storm. Not a single Shadowkind had been reported vanishing all day, and the sudden lull after losing all the unicorns the day before made Bastien anxious.

Thando chuckled, reaching for his own helmet, and catching sight of a group of children watching them from behind a nearby fence of splintered posts and chicken coop. He gave them a wave and they giggled before waving back.

"They're playing Spot The White Man," he said to his colleague.

"Ha ha," Bastien drawled. "C'mon. It's getting dark and I could murder some dinner."

They wove their way around the shantytowns and back to the motorway. Several times the tokoloshe stirred on the back of Bastien's bike, but it made no moves to fight the sack again.

Bastien wondered vaguely what they were going to do if they caught more. Their dog cage could hold three, but if they were going to keep running into them, they were going to have to find alternatives. Their home lacked a garden, being built as it was into the side of a mountain. It made up for this by having rooftop balconies and a lot of additional rooms buried into the mountain, including the training room, and three spare bedrooms. Bastien was nervous about putting the tokoloshe anywhere they could cause chaos, such as the garage. The thought of waking up and finding his bike had been torn apart by the spirits sent a shiver of anxiety through him.

The drive back was long, and even Thando had to swear at the commuters as they pushed through the City Bowl. But as they rounded the mountain and began the climb up Ocean Road Drive, the sun began to set. Remembering how Becky had stood at the top of the mountain to observe the view, Bastien let the sight of the sun sear through his vision, and hoped that it would burn away the difficult day that he had had.

Thando however, had his eyes on something else entirely, as they pulled up to the house, and the garage doors began to slide open. Perched on the step by the front door, was a tiny little black woman in an eye catching dress of red, white and blue geometric patterns. Her hair was tightly braided, with beads strung through the ends which Bastien knew would rattle like wood-chimes in a breeze. Her left hand twirled the chord of her headphones absently, while the right held a small decorated pipe. As the two bikes pulled into the garage, she took a deep pull from it, before tapping it out on the side of the steps.

"Vuyo!" Thando was already yanking his helmet off and running back out of the garage to the front door. Removing her headphones, the Incantifer got to her feet, beaming.

"Surprise!" she wrapped her arms over his shoulders, and he took this as an invitation to pick her up. She squeaked and held on tightly. "Hey hey hey! Be gentle with me! I tore up the motorway to get here early – I'm exhausted!"

"Then why do you look so gorgeous?" Thando asked, cracking a wide smile. Bastien wondered what Thando could see that he couldn't. From his point of view, Vuyo looked tired, with dark circles under her eyes, and a stiffness to the way she held herself, which would have been more characteristic of an eighty year old, rather than the twenty six years she actually was. On closer inspection, her clothes were dust stained, and as he approached them with the sack over his back, Bastien caught the familiar pungent aroma of marijuana.

"What did you do to your arm?" Vuyo demanded, taking Thando's hand and turning the bandage over, no doubt seeing right through it to the source.

"Our new house guest bit me," Thando said. "It's okay. Just keeping it covered to stop infection. I'll let you know if I fall desperately ill."

Vuyo was frowning, clearly not finding that thought funny at all, and Bastien decided now was the best time to intervene.

"Thanks for coming Vuyo," he offered his free hand for a clasp, and was relieved to feel the same familiar strength in her grasp - that more than anything told him that she was alright after her long day of travelling.

"I'm glad I came," the Incantifer admitted. "You know I don't like the city but something is definitely going on here."

Her voice had sobered to something almost chilly, and Bastien recognised it as the tone she used when magic was nudging her to focus on something.

"You think you can sense something? Already?" Thando asked, surprised. She shrugged.

"I don't know what exactly, but the energy of this city is very messy." She glanced at the mountain behind the house, and frowned. "I'll try a few things tonight. See if I can ferret out a source of it all."

She seemed to shake off the gloom suddenly, and her voice returned to normal. "Is my room okay to be used as an imsamo?"

"We left it as it was," Bastien assured her. "Thando just went over it with a duster, but otherwise we haven't touched a thing."

She gave a satisfied smile. The smallest spare bedroom was always locked for Vuyo's use as a place for the more traditional aspects of her magic, and it had gained an eerie quality to it.

The tokoloshe chose this moment to helpfully jab Bastien in the spine through the sack. He glared over his shoulder, and felt Vuyo's curious eyes alight on his shoulder.

"Ooo is that it?" she asked, peering at the thickly woven sack as though hoping a convenient window would suddenly appear.

"One of them. Let's get inside," Thando said. "Then you can see the other two as well. We're starting to develop a bit of a collection."

The Incantifer grabbed her bag, and followed them both into the house. Bastien made a beeline straight for the living room. The other two tokoloshe looked over curiously, jabbering and making scratching motions as he tipped the cage onto its side, opened the door, and shook their latest captive in to join his friends. Certain that the door was locked and spelled shut, he set the cage upright again. Inside, the three tokoloshe glared at him, one of them making lewd gestures with its large penis, while another stuck its tongue out and waved it from side to side.

"Starting to think Becky had the right idea," Bastien wasn't sure if they really understood him, but he jabbed a finger at the pinboard anyway. "There are pins there, and I will use them!"

One of them made a rude hand gesture.

"Incredible!" Vuyo muttered, crouching down next to him, her face inches from the bars. "Live tokoloshe!" She flicked the bar with a nail. "Ooo years of dealing with superstition and now I get to try some of my skills for real! This is so cool!"

Sitting behind her on his heels, Thando gave her an arch look. "Shall we leave you and the jabbering spirits alone?"

She swatted him in the thigh.

"I'll put the kettle on," Bastien said tactfully. As fascinating as the tokoloshe were, he knew that they did not hold a candle to Thando, and it would be wise to give them a moment to say hello properly before they got onto business. "Are you hungry, Vuyo?"

"Very much!" Vuyo replied. "I haven't eaten since breakfast. Motorway services are so hazardous to your health!"

"Hmm...speaking of health," Bastien inclined his head towards the pipe, tucked in a pocket of her dress. "No smoking in the house please, Vu. It's a pain to get the smell out of the carpets."

He didn't have any objections to her smoking, per say - in fact as a registered sangoma, Vuyo was one of the few people in South Africa legally allowed to grow, distribute and smoke her own cannabis - but he would rather not tempt the authorities, particularly not when they were already on less than friendly terms with the South African Police Services.

"Oh relax," Vuyo waved. "That was just a wind down. After the week I've had, you'd enjoy one too."

She muttered a few obscenities about Zimbabwe under her breath, and Bastien decided that he was better off not asking what she had been doing over the border. He excused himself with a smile.

He had just finished filling the kettle when his phone began to vibrate.

"Hey Serena. How's the munchkin?"

"He weighs just under a thousand kilos - not much of a munchkin," came the reply. "He's...not okay."

Bastien's heart sank. "No luck finding his mother?"

"No," he heard the rustle of a head being shaken. "I had a group of twenty merfolk scouting the bay as deep as they could manage. They turned up nothing." She drew a deep breath. "Koka's just swimming around outside...I think he's crying. It sounds like humpback song."

Bastien knew that feeling all too well, and he tried to put the image of a grieving child out of his mind. "Do we still think it's the same thing that's been hunting the humpback whales?"

"I'm definitely not ruling it out, Bastien," Serena's voice had an edge of steel to it now. "I double checked the humpback migration routes. The area Koka's mother disappeared is bang in the middle."

"Hmm…" Bastien began to pace as the kettle bubbled away behind him. "If we need to get into deeper water to search, the Shadowchasers have a navy. I could put a call in."

"...when you say 'navy'," he could hear the inverted commas in Serena's tone. "Do you mean real gun-toting battleships, or three nerds sitting in a speedboat with an underwater drone?"

"Remind me how many nerds live on the Sunspear, again?" Bastien asked pointedly.

"How dare you - my mother is not a nerd!" the indignation was playful.

"My mistake," the Shadowchaser replied, dryly, before switching back to something more professional sounding. "What about the water samples I gave you the other day? Any news from the lab?"

"The results came back normal again," he could hear Serena shaking her head. "I'm sorry Bastien, but it looks like it is just regular water. It's definitely from the bay – the composition of chemicals, minerals and plankton is unmistakable – but other than that there's no magic, or foreign objects."

"So how does it keep showing up at our crime scenes?" Bastien knew that she was not going to have an answer. Nothing was easy in this case.

"I'm sorry," Serena repeated, solemnly. "I really am. I'm going to stay on the boat tonight for Koka. I'll keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary, but other than that, there's not much else I can do."

With a heavy sigh, Bastien stared at the teabags bobbing around in the hot water. "It's okay Serena. You've done more than enough. I'm not really sure how we can thank you."

"...dinner on Saturday?" the half-nymph suggested shyly. Bastien chuckled, until he registered the silence on the other end of the line. She was serious.

"Really?" he could not hide his surprise. It had been a very long time since someone had asked him out.

"Yes. I mean, if you want..." he had never heard the marine biologist sound so uncomfortable, and it made his own insides squirm. He wasn't sure what he wanted. But he knew he did not want to hear her sound so ill at ease, especially after all the help she had given them.

"Okay...did you have somewhere in mind?"

"Maybe," she said, her mood instantly improved by his reply. "I'll text you the details."

They both hung up, and Bastien watched the teabags bob for a bit longer before he roused himself enough to remove them.

 _Don't worry about it now_ , he thought sternly to himself. _You've got a job to do. Focus on that._

It had always worked in the past. Thando was right of course – it wasn't healthy – but work interested him far more than the prospect of dating. So he calmly portioned the prospect of Saturday night off, remembering that he had a guest to deal with.

"So have we learned anything interesting about them?" Vuyo asked, accepting the mug of tea and messy sandwich from her sitting position next to the cage. Her voice was casual, but Bastien could not help but notice that Thando had a bit more colour in his cheeks than usual.

"Nothing beyond what the ancient stories, all of which I think you probably know better than us," Bastien admitted. "Becky put together a fact list for the HQ database and emailed it to me this morning - I left a copy in your room. Oh! We do think they were summoned by a woman though - they seemed more willing to obey Becky when she told them to shut up than they did with us."

Thando rubbed the bandage on his arm in a sulky fashion.

"Really?" Vuyo looked intrigued. "I think I should put that to the test…"

"You're not going to banish them?" Thando asked, surprised. "Don't want to sound like a wuss, but having them in the house really creeps me out."

"Oh they're creeping me out to," Vuyo assured him. "But if you can bear them a little longer, I'd like to experiment a little bit. Some of the spells handed down to my ancestors are ancient, and I'd like to take this opportunity to trial which ones are actually effective, and which ones are rubbish."

She sat back and took a bite from her sandwich. "In the meantime, bring me up to speed on all of these vanishings that you have had lately. The spirits are very restless in this city, and I want to know why."

OOO

 **A/N:** So how do I feel? Ashamed that I flaked out for two months over this chapter? Yes. Not totally happy with what I've written? Very much so. Repressing a sinking sensation that I might have peaked early with this story? Actually there's not much repression now. . .I am _very_ disappointed with myself. Especially while husband-kitty sits there pulling chapters out of the ether every week.

 **Shadowchaser Files**

 **Vuyo Zwelithini**

It is very rare to find a young Incantifer. Known for magically extending their lifespans, most count their birthday candles into the hundreds, or simply stop celebrating all together. But that is not to say that young Incantifers do not exist. At twenty six years old, Vuyo is a good example. Only a few people are privy to how she obtained her powers so young, and for reasons that nobody knows, they are all keen to keep it that way.

Born in Nongomo in the KwaZulu-Natal province, Vuyo juggled her magical abilities with keeping up normal appearances in her family's tight village community. At the age of fifteen, she began to experience regular chronic migraines, which the local sangoma (a traditional healer) was unable to cure. The pain was believed to be a calling from her ancestors, and Vuyo began her training after her sixteenth birthday (the headaches were later revealed to be menstrual migraines, for which she now takes regular medication). After fifteen months of training, which involved healing, divination and enduring some very difficult living conditions, Vuyo was initiated as a full sangoma.

Vuyo quickly realised that being a sangoma was an excellent way to integrate her Incantifer abilities with her everyday life. It made her able to travel, to help people, and provided her with a cover for her ability to do very real magic. She now moves regularly around South Africa, and its neighbouring countries, extending her help to communities of Shadowkind and Mundane. She has a deep spiritual connection with the land, and dislikes being in busy cities, as she claims that the noise drowns out the magic. One of her favourite places to be is Kruger National Park, where she works hard in protecting the endangered species, and has a rapport going with most of the wildlife there (though the lions are somewhat wary of her, and with good reason).

Vuyo usually distinguishes herself in a crowd by wearing brightly coloured dresses, and many beads around her neck and arms. Two of her favourite possessions are her drum, which she uses in spiritual matters as well as a channel for her magic, and her decorated pipe (usually filled with cannabis, though other herbs may be employed for medical purposes). She has a good relationship with all of the South African Shadowchasers, often lending help to Dani and Astra in the east. Her relationship with Thando is infinitely more complicated, and while both of them lead very busy lives, often spending months apart from each other, it is clear to everyone that their feelings run deep.

 **Origin:** South African cultures fascinate me, and the idea of having a traditional witch doctor who was also an Incantifer was an idea that I was desperate to try out in this story. Initially I wanted someone older and wiser, but without even realising, Vuyo quickly became a young, cheerful character, who relies on energy and determination more than the wisdom that a lot of Shadowkind can often have. I also enjoy having a character who can legally get high - it makes for endless giggles.

 **Deck:** Vuyo picked up duelling in her late teens, and uses beasts as a homage to some of her favourite creatures. Her powerful deck focuses on the interactions between Uniflore, Valerifawn, and Kalantosa, the Mystical Beast of the Forest trio. By using them in conjunction with each other, she can pilot her all-beast deck against a variety of foes. Her ace monster, Valerifawn itself, is a card with the power to bring out the potential of every beast-type monster in her deck, and between it and the powerful spell Obedience Schooled, Vuyo really doesn't need to run a single spell or trap card meant to directly destroy an opponent's monster.

Working as she does in small local communities, Vuyo rarely gets a chance to duel, as it tends to be an activity confined to the big cities. However she has used it in her work before, most notably once to get out of prison in Zimbabwe, where she beat three correctional officers one after the other to win her freedom. They were not impressed at being beaten by a woman, let alone a woman wielding an army of cute animals, and their dignities have never recovered.


	6. DJ

**Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 6: DJ**

"Is there a limit for how long she gets to glare at me for?"

"Your sister is like her mother in that respect, my girl. So only time will tell."

Scowling, Becky swirled the last of her water around her glass before gulping it down. She had given Andi all the time and space she needed that afternoon to start talking to her again, but reappearing at Anna's apartment soaked to the bone had not done her any favours, and she had apparently forgotten how long her sister could hold a grudge for. Vi, bless her, had done her best to keep conversation running between them as they had traipsed around Cape Town's shops with their mother and grandmother in tow, but Becky knew that her heart had still been with Koka, and it had been a relief to all of them when they had returned home to get ready for the evening ahead.

It was astonishing how much one person's irritation could ruin a party, Becky thought. The restaurant was warm and comfortable, and the meal had been wonderful, but Andi's expression ruined the entire effect, and Becky was tired of the constant cold shoulder.

"I hate being time's bitch," she muttered. "Time fucking sucks."

Her grandmother clapped a hand over her face, but the snort was already free, and perfectly audible to the entire table.

"Rebecca, language!" two seats down, her mother gave them both a glare. She was not happy with either of them being at the meal tonight. In fact, had Becky not been twenty, her mother probably would have tried grounding her after abandoning her sister and cousin the day before, and running off by herself again today. She was especially miffed that her daughter still refused to divulge to anybody where she had been or what she had been doing. As for Lihle, Becky's mother had tentatively suggested that she stay in to recover from having had a full house. The suggestion had been met with a single loud snort.

"You've got more chance of getting me on the moon, my girl!" Lihle had declared haughtily, screwing large green hoops into her ears. "Now out of my way - Rebecca is doing my nails!"

Her grandmother's bright green nails now shoved an empty wine glass under her own daughter's nose.

"Oh give it a rest, Elize. Have another drink, for all our sakes!"

The wine bottles on the table were all empty, so the glass was pointedly ignored, as Becky's mother turned her disapproval on her own parent. "You should not be encouraging her, either!"

Becky and her grandmother exchanged looks, before laughing. This only seemed to irritate her mother more, and her scowl became more fixed. Becky could completely see now where Lihle was coming from - she and Andi did have that same sour look.

"I mean it, Mum! Three of your grandchildren are at this table! How would you feel if your grandmother were behaving like you?"

She had touched a nerve. Lihle's glass dropped back onto the table with a clang that silenced their half of the group, and she pierced her daughter with a glare.

"My grandmother," she said stonily. "Would have been so astonished - so delighted - that we could have come so far in so few generations, that she would have thrown that entire bottle of dry white rubbish down her throat in celebration. And don't you forget it!"

She pointedly threw back the rest of her own glass in a gulp.

"Are we talking about great nanny Anale or nana Lineo?" Marina asked, half sprawling herself across the table so that she could hear. She and her maid of honour Anna, had already consumed two thirds of a bottle of wine by themselves, and the effects were beginning to show, for she did not seem to sense the tension that had descended over half of her bridal party.

"Anale," Lihle supplied, her voice cold.

"I forget – was she the one who broke a policeman's wrist during the resettlement?" Vi asked, clearly trying to lighten the mood. It only seemed to make Lihle more grim however.

"That's the one," she said, necking the rest of Becky's glass of wine. Becky wisely decided not to complain.

"Was she arrested?" Anna asked, oblivious to the low mood.

"Oh yeah," Marina beamed with pride at the antics of her relatives, while Elize glanced nervously around the restaurant in obvious embarrassment. "Held for twenty four hours, but they let her go and shipped her out to PE the next day. They said they were being lenient because she was pregnant, and they needed the cell for more serious offenders."

"That's a load of bollocks," Lihle declared, pointedly ignoring Elize's horrified expression at her language. "They let her go because they were sick of her yelling. She swore up and down all night in that cell that she would not leave Table Mountain."

"Oh yeah," Marina grinned as she remembered the story. "She used to think the mountain was magic."

"The mountain _is_ magic," Lihle's voice was almost a growl, and Becky felt the sudden urge to shuffle away in case her grandmother decided to bite. "It's a source of spiritual energy in this world."

"...Nana, when we were kids you told us that Table Mountain was the skeleton of a dead stone giant," Andi reminded her with a caustic sneer. Lihle gave her a look.

"There's no rule that it cannot be both, young lady," she said imperiously. Andi rolled her eyes and mouthed 'barmy' to Vi. Becky felt her irritation flare, but she said nothing. Her grandmother was a big girl and did not need defending.

"I'm done with this dry rubbish," the big girl declared with forced briskness, tapping her spoon loudly against her empty wine glass. "Violett, where are these clubs with rainbow shots you promised us?"

Vi obligingly leaned over the back of her chair to call for the bill, as Elize gave a long suffering sigh. Across the table, Andi was sending her sister another smug look, and Becky folded her arms and pointedly looked away. Andi wasn't the only one who could be aloof.

Her grandmother was a reassuring presence, and she was relieved that she stuck close to her elbow as they collected their bags to leave. As they emerged into the dim streetlight, Becky quietly checked her phone. Serena had text her briefly as they had left for dinner with an update on Koka. She could only assume that no more news meant that they still had not found his mother, alive or dead.

The city was busy for a Wednesday night, and Becky found her senses working at full pace as the group began to meander their way to the next street. It was remarkable how quickly a city changed when you were Aware. Shadows beneath streetlights became the flutter of tiny wings. A group of rowdy clubbers passing down the other end of the road became a collective of dwarves. And otherwise unintelligible calls from nearby streets, suddenly became angry posturing in Abyssal.

"Glad I'm not getting involved in that argument," she muttered, as the shouting reached a new volume.

"You're telling me," Lihle replied, only half listening to the commotion. Her arms were folded and her own cold looks were being projected at her own daughter. Feeling that she should probably return the favour, Becky sighed heavily.

"Mum didn't mean it maliciously," she said gently. "You know that."

"I do," her grandmother's voice was still stiff, in spite of her words, and Becky could not help but wonder why.

"She's probably right," she conceded, not wanting to let her grandmother stew. "You shouldn't be encouraging me."

Lihle gave her a look. "If I don't, who will?"

They were interrupted as Marina came swanning over to them, throwing her arms around both of their necks in a way that made Becky glad that her grandmother was sturdy for a sixty five year old.

"You all sound faaaaar too serious over here," the bride to be declared. It was hard to believe that this was the same woman who managed a five star hotel, and usually walked around in smart business suits with not a hair out of place. "It's my hen night! Let's have some more fun!"

Raising her voice she shouted up to the rest of their party, which included five of her colleagues and friends, her maid of honour, and the family. "C'mon girls! This place is fun, and they've got a cocktail offer on!"

Becky glanced at the building in question and groaned. It looked perfectly respectable, with a sharp looking art deco style poster declaring three for two on cocktails, and not a hint of neon lighting on the outside. But the name printed above was lit up with a soft glow that Becky recognised with a surge of dread.

 _Figures_ she thought cynically. _Of all the cocktail bars and clubs in Cape Town, Marina has to the pick the one that's frequented by Shadowkind._

"Oooh I love this place!" Maid of honour Anna was already way beyond the line of tipsy, and staggered to the door of The Oracle on four inch heels. "The DJ is soooo cute!"

"You're married!" Lihle objected. "Save the cute DJs for the single ladies!"

To the casual observer, the bouncer was a tall muscular Indian woman with a large round face, corn rows and amber eyes. To Becky however, she was clearly a weretiger - if she squinted, she could just make out the darker ripple pattern along her arms that betrayed her stripes, even in human form. She frowned suspiciously at Andi and Vi, and gruffly asked for ID.

"Even me?" Lihle asked, her mood lifting immediately. "Oh you know how to flatter an old lady!"

She showed her driver's license, and the bouncer finally quirked a smile, apparently convinced that Lihle was in fact an old lady. As she scanned the group, Becky saw her eyes move over her face, and land on her Shadowchasers mark. An eyebrow arched in question, and Becky gave a gentle shake of her head. She wasn't here on business. Still she loitered at the back, pretending to fumble for her passport in her bag, as everyone else filed in one at a time.

"Not in trouble are we, Shadowchaser?" the bouncer asked conversationally as Becky finally flipped open her passport. Her family were already mincing their way down the short corridor to the stairs. Becky shook her head.

"Nope, just babysitting the children," she nodded with an eyeroll toward the hen party. "Are we likely to find any trouble inside?"

With a snort, the weretiger shook her head. "You think many people get past me? I can sniff out drugs and gunpowder a mile away. Nobody will give you any trouble. We might be run by Shadowkind, but we get plenty of Mundanes in here. Have to – we wouldn't make enough money if we were exclusive. Most folk behave themselves. Those that don't get shown the back door."

She flexed her neck, and Becky watched the muscles ripple. "You're not one of our locals then, I take it?"

"Londoner," Becky replied. "Just visiting family. What's your name?"

"Kaur. Yours?"

"Becky."

Kaur gave a toothy grin. "You have a good night Becky. Don't get bogged down in babysitting for too long. We do a nice Mindless Zombie." Seeing Becky's incredulous look, she added. "It's a pitcher. Give it a go. It's fun."

By the time she caught up with the party, they had already chased a snogging pair of elves out from a booth in the corner of the room, and were squishing their way into it. The large room was divided into two sections, with the cocktail bar by the entrance, and the dance floor was separated by a low wall, over which people could peer and inspect the absurdity. The bar stretched all the way along the back wall, and the dance floor was a dizzying mix of flashing lights, and pounding techno music, which was subdued slightly in the cocktail bar so that people could hear themselves talk - a feat which Becky strongly suspected was aided by some magic. Not for the first time in the last five minutes, she wondered who owned this establishment.

After thrusting some money at Vi as she meandered her way to the bar, she plonked herself down in a seat next to her grandmother. She felt a few eyes on their group - particularly on her, and her cheeks burned, but she figured she could trust Kaur. And true to the weretiger's word, nobody started anything. A few of the groups in the nearby booths even gave Becky nods of acknowledgement.

The Mindless Zombie, as it turned out, was a bright orange concoction, served in a skull-shaped plastic pitcher. Floating on the top, were passion fruit skins, scooped out, frozen, and containing a different colour liqueur - one orange, one bright green, and one blue.

"Oh that is just cool!" Marina clapped. "We're drinking a zombie's brains! This is going on Instagram!"

She snapped a few selfies, before demanding that Elize do a group shot with the skull pitcher in the foreground. No sooner had Becky's mother pressed the button, before Marina, Anna and Lihle were claiming the passion fruit skins for themselves, and toasting together, as Vi finished passing around the round of springboks.

"Mum, you can't possibly drink that!" Elize was exclaiming, aghast at the sight of her mother with a frozen passion fruit skin of liquor.

"Oh stop being such a killjoy!" the sixty five year old woman waved her off.

"Bottoms up ladies!" Marina called, tipping her head back and downing the orange passion fruit in one. "Mmmm triple sec!"

"I got curacao over here!" Lihle declared, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. "I think that's enough for me! Vi, be a darling and get me a virgin mojito?"

"This can't be absinthe!" Anna was inspecting her own passion fruit piece critically, before she shrugged and shot it back. Screwing up her eyes, she shook her head as her breath burst out of her in a rush. "Nope. Vodka!"

"I think you're supposed to put them in the pitcher," Andi said, bending and straightening her straw. "Not drink them neat."

The three women examined their fruit slices curiously, before bursting into laughter.

"Oops!" Lihle giggled. "Oh well, too late now! Better make the most of it! Drink up girls!"

Everyone reached for their little green shot glass, or dunked their straw into the zombie skull. Seeing Andi shoot her a look, in the middle of sucking up the pitcher, Becky threw back her springbok to avoid the uncomfortable stare. The peppermint shot through the creamy amarula, right up her nose, and her eyes watered at the impact. Andi snorted in amusement.

"My nails are the exact same colour of your shots!" Lihle declared, tapping at the glasses with her green fingers. "Look! Exactly the same!"

She chortled, and took another sip of her mojito.

"I'm going to dance!" Anna declared, sliding out and dragging Marina with her. "Come on! Last dance as a single girl!"

She and the two other colleagues pulled the giddy bride to her feet and led her over to the pounding floor. Andi and Vi followed arm in arm, in a way that caused a stab of pain in Becky's chest. She should be joining them, but the look her sister sent her as they walked across the bar spoke volumes - they were still annoyed. Her already miserable mood dipped even further.

"Nana, can I borrow your straw?" she asked, holding out a hand. Blinking at her owlishly, Lihle removed one of the black plastic tubes from her mojito and passed it to her. Becky dunked it in the zombie and began to drink. It was dominantly orange, but at this stage, she wasn't sure she cared. Drunk was the way to go this evening.

"Okay look," her mother put in. "This has been going on all day, and I'm tired of it. You're spoiling Marina's hen night with your fighting."

"What do you want me to do?" Becky demanded. "Lock Andi in a room and force her to talk to me again?"

"Don't be silly," her mother scowled. "But you're going about this the wrong way if you think that she needs to be the one to make the move. If she won't do it, it needs to come from you. If you just explain where you were-"

"Stop it," Becky wasn't sure her mother could hear her over the noise of the club, but she carried on regardless. "I have told you before. I can't explain where I was yesterday, and even if I could, I actually wouldn't want to! Because I wouldn't want to share it with people who don't seem to understand that no means no! Do you think I didn't see you today, whispering at Anna's house? Talking to each other about what I'd been up to and who I'd been talking to? I can't believe you think it's okay to spy on your own daughter!"

"Becky that isn't fair. All we want to know is a little bit." Her mother was folding her arms, going back on the defensive. Lihle laid a calming hand on her granddaughter's own arm, but Becky found suddenly that she did not want to be touched, and got to her feet.

"You are not getting a little bit, so stop asking! I don't want to tell you where I was yesterday. I don't want to explain how I got wet today. And I definitely don't want to tell Andi anything!"

"You don't tell any of us anything!" Elize was on her feet, upsetting several of the abandoned shot glasses. "Not about your friends, or what you even do for fun! You don't just keep your job secret from us, Becky - your whole life is a secret!"

Lihle reached up and yanked her daughter back down into the booth with surprising strength. Feeling tears build in the corner of her eyes, Becky slid out of the comfy cushions and stormed across the seating area to the bar. Several Shadowkind glanced curiously at her, and one terrified little sylph fluttered nervously out of her way as she reached the bar and leaned against heavily against the counter, rubbing her hands over her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother and grandmother having a low, but furious argument, punctuated with a flurry of hand gestures in her direction. Andi and Vi were returning from the dancefloor for more of the pitcher, and it did not take them long to join the conversation.

 _Why do they all have to look at me?_ Becky thought bitterly. _Why can't they just all stop asking questions?_

A set of heels clicked nearby. Behind the bar, the bartender moved past with two bottles clutched in his hand. The dancefloor was noisy, and a horrible feeling of being trapped was starting to creep over Becky's mind.

"Ah, not quite who I was searching for, but close enough."

Frowning, the disgruntled Shadowchaser pulled her head out of her hands, and felt one of her eyebrows arch of its own accord as she took in the sensual woman parking herself at a bar stool next to her. She was stirring her martini with the olive, her eyes sweeping the dancefloor and booths with a calculating, watchful gaze.

Curious, Becky looked the woman up and down, before breaking into a smile. Suddenly, she felt comfortable again. "Really? And who were you searching for?"

The succubus blinked at her in surprise, and Becky fought the urge to laugh. She was guessing that she did not have many Shadowchasers (or people in general for that matter) speaking to her like an actual person with feelings. She seemed to shake it off however, and leaned in conspiratorially.

"Bastien Holst. He asked me to find him some information."

Becky's eyes narrowed as she realised that this was a business matter, rather than a social one. She wondered what on earth Bastien needed from a demon. "And you have it?" she asked, already reaching for her phone.

"I have it," the woman nodded, her tail giving the tiniest twitch as someone brushed past her. "So could you be a dear and tell him that Rana would like him to get that rather delectable arse of his down here? Quickly if possible – I'm a busy demon."

Her eyes darted back to the dancefloor, and an uncomfortable sense of foreboding crept up Becky's spine. Nodding, she swiped her phone, and began to fire off a new text message.

" _At the Oracle with Rana. She has your info."_

She paused, before adding another line.

" _Hurry. She's spooked."_

Replacing her phone, she turned back to the bar.

"Coke for me please," she told the bartender. She knew she was going to want to keep her wits about her now. "And another martini for my friend here."

Confused but clearly a little intrigued, Rana slid off the bar stool to stand beside her. "Trying to take advantage of an inebriated woman, Shadowchaser?"

"Don't be daft," Becky snorted. "You can't get drunk."

She sipped at her coke, while the bartender prepared the cocktail. "So why don't you explain to me what's got you so worried?"

The succubus gave a tight laugh. "Isn't it obvious? As a rule, demons have no rules. Being bad is how we roll, and as long as we get what we come here for, anything goes. But helping Shadowchasers? That's the kind of bad even demons don't like."

Her eyes flicked nervously to the door at the other end of the bar, and Becky turned so that her back was leaning against the glossy chrome. Catching Rana's eye, she glanced down to her hip, where her hand rested by her handbag. She never went anywhere unarmed, and her swords had been concealed inside it all evening.

"Who am I looking for?" she asked, casually eyeing up the dancefloor as though looking for a friend.

"Not sure how many," Rana admitted. "But there will be one - Marko - he's a half-demon. He runs a...service...for humans and Shadowkind who want things. Drugs. Cash being moved from place to place...and the pleasure of a succubus or incubus for an evening."

"You have a half-demon for a pimp?" Becky asked, in a disbelieving drawl. She got a cold stare in response.

"He is not a pimp. He doesn't sell me. He just gives people the tools and knowledge to summon me."

It sounded like a pimp to Becky, but she was in no position to judge. And now she could place that name - Bastien had said that Marko was the one who had broken his nose.

"Anyway," Rana continued. "He heard that I was sniffing around, and I'm pretty sure he hasn't taken kindly to it."

Smirking, Becky leaned back against the bar with her arms folded, and took another sip of her coke. "Believe me, it would be my genuine pleasure to dissuade him from finding you."

"Hmm...you don't seem to be having the time of your life over there," the succubus gestured to the booth with her martini glass, where Marina and her cohort of colleagues were making their way back to the table, with huge grins on their faces. Seeing Andi and her mother eyeing the bar like laser-eyed vultures, Becky pointedly turned her back on them again, and refocused all her attention on Rana.

"Just a little family argument," she brushed off, not feeling like discussing her personal life with the succubus. "We're on holiday."

"Yes, I detected the accent," Rana drawled. "I do love the British." Her lips quirked in amusement. "Who is that delightful young lady with the burning glare?"

"That's my sister, and she's spoken for," Becky filled in. "Not to mention barely legal."

"Doesn't usually stop me," the succubus declared. "Certainly hasn't stopped her from the looks of it…"

Becky's mouthful of coke came spraying back out of her nose. Wincing as the fizz pulled tears from her eyes, she pushed her glass away and turned her own glare onto Rana. "Really didn't need to know that, thanks!"

A smile now positively glowing on her face, Rana sipped her martini cheerfully. "Don't be jealous, Shadowchaser…or maybe you should be. Fifteen months is a very long time to go without. You poor thing..."

Becky's blistering retort was all lined up and ready, but before she could part with it, a third figure cut smartly up along side them.

"Evening ladies," Bastien greeted, with his usual smile. "Enjoying the three for two cocktails?"

"That was quick," Becky said, glancing at the floor beneath Bastien's feet for a sneaky trapdoor. Her eyes trailed up in a quick assessment, and she concluded that nobody else had tried to punch him today.

"I was in the neighbourhood," her colleague explained, his eyes falling on Rana. "You got the information I wanted?"

"I did," still smirking Rana nodded, her expression turning suddenly playful. "But I want something in return for all my hard work."

Bastien's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"A kiss."

"No." The reply was as flat as roadkill, and Becky did not blame him.

"Oh Bastien, you know how to break a girl's heart," Rana pouted.

"I'd like to get through tonight without signing over my soul," the Shadowchaser glared. "I need the answer to that question Rana. And if the answer is what I think it is, then you know I need it too. Not even demons are going to be safe from this."

"I still want payment, Shadowchaser," Rana said, though her tone had taken on a steely edge, that told Becky that she was well aware of what sort of danger she was in.

"I'll do it," she interrupted, boldly.

"No you bloody well won't!" Bastien objected in horror. Surprised, Rana eyed Becky up and down.

"You need that info," the British woman reminded him. "If a kiss is all the payment she wants then I'll do it - she never said it had to be from you."

"It's not just a kiss she'll take from you!" Bastien protested. He knew just as well as she did that once a succubus got her lips on you, it was almost impossible to resist their manipulations. Becky drew herself up straight.

"You're not my boss, and that's not your call to make," she challenged, turning back to Rana. "I give you a kiss. You give Bastien the information."

Rana's eyes were gleaming - something about Becky's attitude seemed to appeal to her - and she shrugged. "Fine by me."

Digging her nails into the strap of her vest, the succubus tugged her forward and sealed her mouth against hers. Becky vaguely heard Bastien protesting, but it soon blended away into the background as the grip at her shoulder got tighter until she was pressed very indecently into the other woman. Rana tasted like martinis and that special brand of dark enticement that only came from demons.

It was very easy for her to yield - Rana knew just what she wanted and lust bled into the kiss in an intoxicating rush. Her heart pounded and her blood began to race, as the other woman's lips began to work at hers, and her nails trailed down the strap towards her bra. The lone touch spoke of more...more smouldering kisses all over her body if she only gave in...

Breaking for air, Becky smirked in a satisfied manner, before taking a deliberate step back out of Rana's grasp, and hopping back onto the barstool.

"Eh. Not bad." She shrugged, dusting her hands off. Bastien gaped at her like a confused goldfish, and Rana's expression was rapidly mirroring his. She watched Becky lean back on the bar for her drink, with a gaze that was part astonished and part fearful.

Becky laughed, stirring her coke with her straw. "Don't worry, your powers are fine. I lived with a succubus for fourteen months. There's only so many times you can get pounced on in training sessions before it stops being effective."

Bastien's brain seemed to reboot itself, and he burst out laughing, as Rana continued to blink in a stupefied manner.

"I should have known you were smart enough not to put yourself at risk," leaning heavily against the bar, Bastien shook his head, his body still trembling with mirth. "Sorry for doubting you, Becky."

"It's okay," she shrugged. "You didn't know. It's not a skill I advertise, after all."

Rana groaned into one hand, but when she looked up again, her eyes held new respect.

"Well played, babe," she acknowledged. "Well played. Supposed I'd better pay up, then."

Retrieving her martini glass, she swirled the remains of her drink against the edges. "I headed back to the Abyss and looked around for Sarrelle and his friends. Obviously I couldn't cover the entire realm, but between asking questions and poking my nose around, I was able to get the lowdown on most of it."

"And?" Bastien asked, clearly impatient now that she was there.

"And nothing," Rana confirmed. "No sightings of either of those three in the last week. I can only assume therefore that you were right – they're not dead. Whatever force this is, swallowing Shadowkind up, it must have taken those three along with the rest of them."

She paused, watching the way Bastien's shoulders slumped in defeat. "May I offer some friendly advice?"

"Go ahead," the resident Shadowchaser sighed.

"These vanishings haven't gone unnoticed downstairs," Rana said, her tone suddenly serious. "Word is starting to spread. Most of the lower ranked demons don't care, but some of the big boys are starting to pay attention. I don't suppose Marko's ever told you which demon he and Veno call father?"

Bastien gave a curt shake of his head.

"There were a lot of whisperings that he was supposed to be putting in an appearance yesterday," Rana explained. "Nobody's sure why. Might have wanted his boy's help. Might have wanted to give them a spanking. Either way, he cancelled his plans at the last minute. Nobody's coming to Cape Town unless they're stupid, or it's urgent business. And they aren't sticking around. Marko's not leaving on principle - as far as terrestrial Shadowkind are concerned, this is his territory. It wouldn't look good for him to be seen fleeing. But something big is on its way, and whatever it is, it frightens demons so bad they don't want to get out of bed."

Bastien was pulling a thoughtful face. "Rana, this thing that can frighten demons…is there any chance it lives in the ocean?"

The succubus's expression spoke volumes. "There's a chance it lives on Mars, Bastien. Do I look like I know what frightens the higher ups?"

Becky felt her mouth twitch into a smile as Bastien shrugged.

"Had to ask," he explained, turning to his colleague. "We might need to call in the navy after all."

Excitement bloomed in Becky's chest. "That sounds like fun. Count me in."

By her side, Rana stiffened against the bar, and her gaze seemed to zone in on the corridor to the club entrance.

"Well fuck," she muttered, tossing her glass back onto the counter and weaving out from between the barstools.

"Rana?" Becky asked, but the succubus was already vaulting the bar, whispering a few sweet words into the perplexed bartender's ear, and pushing her way through the door towards the staff exit.

"Too late," Bastien muttered, nodding towards the door. Becky felt the familiar shiver run up her spine that always preceded the presence of demons. It was hard to count how many there were - they kept jostling together in the tiny doorway - but she could tell they were a mix of half-demons and tieflings. As she watched, they fanned out, barging their way one by one into the busy bar, elbowing patrons out of the way with disdain.

"What happened to Kaur?" Becky demanded, as several Shadowkind registered the new threatening presence and began to back away in fear.

"Against a gang of Shadowkind with demon blood?" Bastien said. "Numbers will always win. You know that."

Out of the corner of her eye, Becky caught sight of her grandmother rising slowly to her feet, her own gaze narrowed in suspicion as she took in the new arrivals. Becky's heart began to pound and she took off at a speedy clip back to the booth. As she reached her grandmother's side, a series of bangs rang through the room like firecrackers, and several people shrieked. A glass smashed behind the bar, and on the dancefloor the DJ hastily cut the music, as the patrons scrambled to get behind the low walls, or under their tables.

"That's better!" one of the smaller half-demons pushed his way into the middle of the lounge. Behind him, one of the biggest figures that Becky had ever seen, was pocketing a gun, several round bullet holes now decorating the ceiling. Becky was faintly surprised – most thugs in Cape Town preferred knives. "Sawubona, molweni, goeienaand and good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

He was sharply dressed, and only small wings and sharp nails betrayed that he was anything other than a well-presented thug. Becky swallowed thickly. She counted nineteen aggressors, and a close look at all of them revealed dilated pupils and clammy looking skin. It took a lot of drugs to make a demon high, but they were all the more dangerous because of it. In addition to them, there were twenty four Shadowkind in the bar, two Shadowchasers, and eleven mundane. The trouble was that she was uncertain how many Shadowkind were fighters, and how on earth they could go about it without blowing the masquerade to everyone in here.

All of her usual instincts when in danger fled, in the face of one awful piece of information - her family were in here. Her mother had hidden under the table, along with Marina's colleagues. Marina herself had stayed in her seat, and Vi and Andi had placed themselves behind her like a guard. Gently, she placed one hand on her grandmother's arm – the older woman was steady as a rock.

"Now there's just one thing I need from you people," Marko paced around the room, swinging his cane like a stage magician, stopping to help himself to someone's abandoned drink as he walked. "One tiny little thing, and then me and my boys will clear out and leave you lot to your little dancing. Really hot piece of ass - goes by the name of Rana. About yay big, all the right charms, and a rack like a pair of bowling balls. Anyone seen her?"

He spun in a circle, observing the terrified clubbers with apparent curiosity. "No? No one? Alright." He jerked his head to the big guy. "She might be disguised. Start checking the women."

Rough hands shot out and began to pull anyone female from where they were crouched behind tables and tucked away in booths. Several women struggled, while others went with fear in their eyes. The female bartender swore as she was yanked out from behind the counter, and a tiny duskling squeaked as she was dragged out from behind a bar stool.

"You know where Rana is?" Marko asked, tapping her on the nose with his cane. She trembled in response. "Alright. How about you?" he moved on to a half elf who glared at him. "Nope? Nobody?"

He drifted in a lazy circle, and Becky felt her heart pound as the cane landed on their table like a sadistic game of spin the bottle. Marina slid out of her seat to stand by her daughter, and beneath the table, Becky's mother squeaked.

"What about these lovely little ladies in the corner?" Marko strode to the table, and gripped Andi by the chin. This close, he stank of narcotics and Becky's eyes watered. "How about you, sweetheart? You seen anyone like that?"

His clawed nails were digging into Andi's skin, and Becky could no longer hold still. In a heartbeat she had locked the groping wrist in a grip that would have broken the bones of a normal person, and twisted it into his back as her free hand came up behind and yanked back hard on his wings. Marko let out a shriek and twisted himself free. Becky was sure she heard his wrist pop as she went, but she knew that it would not last long on him.

"Touch her again and I will kill you!" she snarled, feeling every protective instinct she had ever had on a mission surge forward. A few of the guns swung to point at her head, but she did not care – she was confident she could dodge if necessary. Shaking out his wrist, Marko's black eyes took her in, and a smile stretched across his face.

"Ah not a lovely little lady at all!" he cheered. "A Shadowchaser!"

His gang of minions chuckled at her. As the rest of the bar silently gazed at the confrontation, Becky kept her own eyes fixed on Marko - mostly because she knew that she did not want to see the expressions on her family's faces right now, as Andi backed away toward her aunt and cousin for safety.

"Oh and look!" Marko cried, as he spotted Bastien loitering behind the booth like a silent angel. Becky had completely lost track of him in her rush to protect her family and she felt a warm rush of gratitude that he hadn't abandoned her. "Another one! It must be my birthday!" he crooned, as his gang continued to snort stupidly. "Good to see you again, Bastien - how's your nose?"

The Shadowchaser glared as everyone's eyes landed predictably on his face. "Fine. Actually you straightened out this bump I've had in it since high school, so thanks Marko. Now you can tell everyone that you helped a Shadowchaser out, and you got nothing out of it in return."

"Oh I wouldn't say I got nothing," Marko folded his arms and regarded him with a smirk. "Beating the ever loving fuck out of you was a special kind of satisfaction all of itself. And speaking of satisfaction-" he sent a lewd glance in Becky's direction. "Who's your pretty colleague?"

"None of your fucking business," Becky snapped.

"Nah, probably isn't," Marko conceded. "But since you mentioned business - Rana. Where is she?"

"No idea," Bastien said flatly. "Haven't seen her for days."

Marko was momentarily overcome with laughter, and had to use his cane to hold himself upright. His hands had a definite tremor to them.

"It's always cute to watch you law enforcement types try to lie," he giggled, straightening suddenly and pointing his cane at Becky's face, his expression completely sober again. "Too bad I know it's a lie. I can smell that little whore's magic all over her face. You two were getting really friendly at some point in the last five minutes." He raked his eyes up and down her body. "Now that's something I wouldn't mind seeing. Maybe when I find Rana, I can get you two together for a little repeat performance."

It was sorely tempting to try kneeing him between the legs, but Becky knew she was not quite close enough. Seeing Bastien tensing, she went for the next best option and kicked the cane out from Marko's grasp. He stumbled as Bastien cleared the table in two strides and grabbed one arm, shoving his elbow right into the sensitive joint where his wings met. Becky got the other and the two of them slammed him face first into the table. The demon cackled, as the empty zombie pitcher went clattering to the floor.

"Holding up clubs is going to put you away for a long time, Marko!" Bastien hissed in his ear. "Thanks for giving me the excuse!"

"Oh that's fine," Marko giggled. "Thanks for giving me the excuse to do this."

Something cold pressed into the back of Becky's skull, and she winced, as another barrel was placed to Bastien's head with a click.

"Oh put them away," she snorted. "We all know that doesn't work on us."

"True," Marko nodded, his little black eyes flicking across the table. "We'll have to try someone else then."

On cue, the largest thug removed his gun from Becky's head and swung it to the left. He squeezed the trigger with an earsplitting bang, and Lihle jerked backwards over her seat and onto the floor.

"Mum!"

"Nana!"

She did not even think, releasing Marko instantly and crashing to her knees next to her grandmother. Her mother was crawling out from beneath the table, tears already streaming down her face as Marina skidded down next to her and began shakily performing first aid. Every other demon in the place meanwhile, was pointedly targeting their own weapons on the mundanes in the club. Bastien had released Marko, but his eyes were promising murder as the demon shook out his sharp jacket.

"Nana…" with no room to crouch in the squashed booth, Vi was hovering with tears streaming down her face. Becky wasn't even aware of what the rest of their party were doing. There was only Lihle coughing weakly, a damp patch spreading over her brightly coloured top.

"Oh. I guess they don't dodge bullets as well as you guys do," Marko giggled. He was striding backwards to stand beside the smirking gunman.

"You sick son of a bitch!" Bastien was furious.

"Careful now Bastien," Marko warned, waving his hands casually to the rest of his henchmen, holding more trembling mundanes hostage. "The old lady wasn't bulletproof but I've got plenty more Clueless in here to practice on!"

Predictably, Bastien froze. One of the tieflings reappeared from the dancefloor.

"We've checked the whole building, boss. She's not here."

"Pity," Marko shrugged. "Oh well. I'll have to find some new entertainment for the night…"

He levelled his own gun at Marina, and Becky charged, throwing her body weight into him and pushing the gun towards the ceiling, just as the lights snapped out with a loud crack.

The gun discharged, sending a dizzying ring through Becky's ears as she and Marko crashed to the club floor, the misaimed weapon clattering away nearby. Her hand stuck to the cheap lino as she pushed herself up and straddled the half demon, punching where she was sure his head would be. It was impossible to see, and her ears were still humming, but she did not care as her fist connected solidly with the centre of his face. Hot blood spurted over her knuckles. An elbow slammed into her stomach and the breath left her in a painful burst. Something cold was trickling over the floor, a salty smell permeating the air. Through the gunshot in her head she could hear screams as people scrambled in the blackness. More guns discharged, bottles and glasses smashed and fists connected with flesh as the club descended into an all out brawl around her. She ignored it all, pushing the pain in her stomach down and striking again in a hot fury. She howled as she missed and punched the floor by mistake-

-then she spluttered as something burst nearby and showered her and the half demon in water. Around the club the noise continued, more liquid bursting and hitting the lino like a heavy rainstorm. The screams were gurgled now and stifled with each explosion. Sucking on her lip, Becky tasted salt and the hairs on her neck stood on end.

Through the chaos, there was a snap and the lights flipped back on. Blinking the spots away, Becky squinted around the room. Bastien stood behind the bar, his fist still hovering over the lighting panel. The club was submerged in two inches of water, the patrons soaked through as they lay in it, hiding or sprawled as they had tried to escape in the dark. Her family were still crouched under their table, all of them frightened and shivering. Veno lay nearby with four burly looking dwarves pinning him to the floor. But nobody was looking at them, or his brother who was still trying to wriggle free beneath her thighs. Instead they were staring at the newcomer standing tall on the bar.

Fear tingled up Becky's spine as the woman observed the clubbers with a dispassionate gaze. It was impossible to guess anything else about her, for her body and face were draped in thick ropes of seaweed, which dribbled silvery trails of water onto the bar and floor around her. A soft glow was emanating from her right hand, the light trailing out like a delicate fibre of hair along the water and branching out down the bar and across the floor. Becky's swung her gaze behind her, just in time to see two bubbles of water materialise like cocoons around two Shadowkind – one teifling and the duskling she had seen earlier. Their screams were a trail of bubbles as the water burst and showered the nearby tables in a rush. The two captives were gone.

Bastien made a dive for the bar, but his target seemed to collapse in on herself, body and seaweed dissolving into a rush of water that splashed off the counter and onto the floor, leaving the Shadowchaser to skid painfully over the surface and tumble onto the floor in a heap among the toppled bar stools.

Pain burst through Becky's side and she felt her own body overbalance as a strong fist shoved her over. She had completely forgotten about the demon pinned and bleeding beneath her, and as she rolled back upright, rubbing her side where he had hit her, she had just enough time to watch him dart for the back door. One brave elf tried to grab him, but he smacked him aside and bolted through exit into the night.

"Fuck..." Bastien was rubbing his elbow as he sat up and observed the damage. Becky's own eyes swept the room, dread filling her as she realised what she would find. Sure enough, every demon in the room had vanished, save for Veno, along with sixteen other Shadowkind patrons. Breathing heavily, she got back to her feet, wincing as pain flared up her side. She was drenched through and shivering, but most of all she was kicking herself for letting Marko get away.

"Everyone alright?" she asked.

"Do we look alright?!" Of course her mother would be the first to voice her anxiety as everyone else muttered their assent. "Just look at her!"

"Oh stop fussing dear!" Lihle huffed, sounding dreadfully fed up as she pulled herself into a sitting position with ease and held out her arms. "I'm fine! Andi, Vi, stop standing there and help your grandmother up. I'm done laying in this mess like an invalid!"

She was doing a good job of acting naïve, but Becky caught her grandmother's eye as she was pulled up from the floor, and saw the worry resting just beneath the surface.

"Is it safe to leave?" the elf who had attempted to stop Marko from fleeing asked, rubbing his cheek where the demon had struck him.

"Yeah, everyone out." Bastien ordered, before turning to the four dwarves. "Not you four. Do you mind hanging onto him for a moment longer?"

"You got it, Bastien," the closest one gave a reassuring smile, which was somewhat undermined as Veno began to thrash violently against his four small stocky captors. One by one, the shaken clubbers began to rise, and hurry towards the safety of the outdoors, some on their own, others supporting each other in twos and threes, their shoes splashing through the puddles as they went.

Bastien was fishing for his phone as Becky approached. So many revelations were chasing their way around her head and she had no idea where to begin. Instead she gave him a grateful smile.

"Thanks for backing me up," she said sincerely. "And sorry. I'm usually more...professional."

He gave her a look. "It was your family. I get it." He glanced towards the hen party picking themselves up and gathering their belongings. "You'd better go with your grandmother. I need Thando to take over here before I go after Marko."

Becky's eyes narrowed. "You can find him?"

She jumped as Bastien reached for her hand and held it up. The water had washed a lot of the blood away, but streaks of it were drying to her wrist and arm, and some of it remained snagged under her fingernails and in the cracks of her knuckles. "As soon as Vuyo gets here, she can use that to trace him."

"I'm coming with you," she folded her arms and cut him off as he took a breath to retort. "Don't argue with me – he hurt my family. I'm coming with you. Nana's fine."

"Too bloody right!" Lihle answered in Xhosa, as she was steered by her grandchildren past the two Shadowchasers. One hand was pressed to her gunshot wound, but her shirt was soaked with so much water that it was impossible to see if there was any blood. Shaking her granddaughters' off her arms she developed a sudden amount of steel in her stride, and broke off from the path to the exit to detour over to Veno, who was still struggling against the four dwarves pinning his limbs to the floor.

There was a swift thud and the huge half demon howled, falling still as he clutched pitifully between his legs.

"You owe me a new right breast, young man!" Lihle snapped. "Do you have _any_ idea how expensive these are?!"

And she strode imperiously towards the door, with her head held high. The effect was in no way hindered by the fact that she had to lean back on her granddaughters for support up the staircase.

Becky snickered at the stupefied expression on Bastien's face. "Yeah, that's Nana." She nodded.

OOO

Beneath the darkness of the trees, a bubble of water materialised. It hung there for a moment, a single disturbed leaf fluttering down to touch the shimmering surface before it burst, showering the path slabs in a wet puddle.

Silently, the witch stepped from the shadows, fingers of seaweed caressing the grass as she headed deeper into The Company's Garden. The rectangle of calm greenery was surrounded by a high wrought iron fence, designed to shield it from the noisy city.

She paused beneath another tree in the far corner of the square. The water seeping from her body had left a shimmering trail behind, and now pooled around her as she observed the scene.

"Enough," her voice was soft, but the nine tokoloshe heard, and leaped off their prize with squeals of delight. Pushing each other out of the way, they clustered lovingly around her feet with wide red smiles.

Beneath the tree Rana's raw throat could only whimper. Her clothes had been shredded to ribbons, and bite marks littered her bare skin. Clumps of her hair had been torn out with scalp still attached, and her wings were a punctured, tattered mess. As she weakly pawed at the grass fresh blood pooled on her stomach and thighs.

The tokoloshe crooned. They wanted more.

She shook her head. She doubted that this creature could take much more, and she was no good to them dead.

Fingers caressed the object clenched in her right fist. Magic sang, bubbling up inside her as she stood over the succubus. Dark eyes, dull with pain gazed up at her.

She was glad that this thing could feel pain.

"Don't touch what isn't yours."

The magic crested, and Rana screamed as the water swept up around her.

OOO

"Are you sure you don't need-"

"No, thank you Kloeter," Bastien usually had all the patience in the world when dealing with their Sensitive contact in the South African Police Service, but tonight, the commissioner was anxious. Something this public, and involving non magical citizens, was a complication that none of them wanted. "We've got it under control. The Shadowkind are happy to leave it to us, and the mundanes didn't see anything."

The veil was clearly on their side tonight, for every mundane had been rubbing spots from their eyes, hiding, or looking the other way when the witch had vanished, and were none the wiser about the magic that had occurred. By the time morning rolled around, all the weirdness of the evening would just seem like a night of heavy drinking, and they would be in the clear.

Except Becky's family, Bastien thought sombrely. They might not have seen anything, but they had heard all the damning evidence they had needed to hear from Marko's fat mouth. He glanced over to the ambulance. One had already left, taking Kaur to hospital, and the other had the clan of women clustered around the back. Right in the middle was Becky, and from the angry hand gestures, she was taking some serious flak from her family.

"That's a relief," the police commissioner gave a huff, clearly sinking gratefully into a chair. "And those responsible?"

"Those that weren't kidnapped are in our custody," Bastien reported. "Marko gave us the slip, but we're tracking him down once everything is cleared here. We have two casualties at the scene, but I'm told only one is serious."

"Well I suppose it could have been worse," Kloeter said, idly. "Alright. We've wanted Marko for ages, but I'm happy to leave him to you if it means getting him off the streets - god knows you're more equipped to deal with him than any of my force. You good with that?"

In fact, Bastien could have skipped, but he chose not to.

"All good," he muttered, with only one ear on the conversation. "I'll call you once he's in our custody. The prosecuting team may want some of your evidence when it comes to trial."

"Leave me a voicemail," Kloeter said. "It's been a long day, and I'm heading off to get some sleep."

It took all of Bastien's restraint not to make a sarcastic retort. He settled for mentally flipping the other man off instead. "Well have a good night, then. You'll have a full report by lunch tomorrow." And he hung up.

"Not it," Thando said playfully, approaching his friend with his usual smile. Bastien rolled his eyes.

"Given that I was in there when it started, I think that report is going to come from me," he said, glancing around. Vuyo was sitting on the pavement, her brow furrowed in concentration. She did not track demons very often, and she did not have much blood to work with. Still, she was putting her best effort into it, leaving Thando and Bastien to liaise with the police.

"Get back here, Becky. I am not done with you!"

"Well I'm done with you!"

"Leave her alone, for Gods sake Elize!"

"I won't tell you again, Mum - put your mask back on!"

"Make me!"

Bastien winced. "Thought she was fiery in there. Starting to see where she gets it from."

Thando snorted as a car slid up next to the ambulances, and Bastien felt a heavy surge of dread in his stomach, as the familiar figure got out of the driver's seat.

"What the hell is Nkhosi doing here?" Thando stopped chortling immediately. "Kloeter can't have sent him, can he?"

"No! I specifically told him not to!" Bastien could feel his blood pressure rising as the man glanced around at the line of clubbers waiting for lifts home. Strangely though, he completely gazed past the mess at the entrance, where Marko's men had ripped the heavy front door clean off its hinges, and left cracks in the wall while knocking Kaur out. Instead his eyes landed on the ambulance, and he hurried over to the arguing group of women at an anxious run.

"Oh no…" as Becky strode up to them, Bastien buried his head into his hands as the pieces clicked together. "Becky, please tell me there's a reason that the detective is hugging your aunt that doesn't involve the word 'fiancé'."

Becky gave him a look. "I can tell you till I'm blue in the face, but it won't make it less true."

It was impossible for Bastien to hold back a groan as the detective turned to look at the three of them. His glare could have crumbled Table Mountain. "Sooner Marko surfaces the better…"

"What about the sea witch?" Becky asked. "Any info from HQ?"

Bastien shook his head. He had already sent a detailed description of their attacker to headquarters, asking for a positive ID. None of Bastien's experience with aquatic Shadowkind matched with the sea witch, and nobody else in the club had been able to shed light either. The realisation that they could be dealing with an entirely new species, capable of kidnapping twenty seven Shadowkind at once was horrifying, and the thought of ending up in one of those huge bubbles of water sent an uncomfortable frisson of fear down Bastien's spine.

"Leave her to me and Vu," Thando said, with a smile. "You two worry about Marko. Personally I'm starting to think a cell is too nice for him."

Bastien was having similar thoughts, but he did not voice them aloud. Instead he turned his attention back to the ambulance. "While we're on the subject, does anyone want to explain to me how a sixty five year old woman is apparently bulletproof?"

The frown vanished from Becky's face like magic, and she started laughing. "Oh sorry, did I not mention? Nana wasn't lying when she said her boobs were expensive. Her right one is completely fake."

Thando went an interesting shade of red, and Bastien blinked at her stupefied. "...excuse me?"

"She had breast cancer in her twenties, and since she was pregnant they decided on a mastectomy instead of radiotherapy. She's got nasty bruising, and they think she might have cracked a rib or two, but the implant took most of the damage." Becky pulled a face. "She is _not_ happy. They're taking her to hospital to remove the implant, but they won't be able to give her a new one until after the wedding."

Thando groaned. "Not surprised she's unhappy! I'd be annoyed if I had to go to my daughter's wedding with a lopsided boob!"

"...that is the weirdest thing I have ever heard you say, Than," Bastien said, rubbing his head in his hand as he fought back a smile. "And I have almost six years of conversations to compare it to."

His colleague's pout did not last long. Vuyo was hurrying over, her flip flops clacking against the pavement. A clear crystal with a blob of drying blood floating in the middle was clutched between her fingers.

"I hate the city," the Incantifer declared, as soon as she was within earshot. "It's like trying to hear a whisper in a room full of shouting relatives."

From the wince on Becky's face, Bastien guessed that she was sympathising with that statement.

"Did you find him?" he asked quickly. Vuyo shrugged.

"Near enough."

"That sounds encouraging," Thando said dryly. Vuyo gave him an equally dry response.

"Unfortunately ancestral magic isn't evolved enough to be compatible with modern technology like sat navs - the day it is, I shall be all the happier." She tossed the crystal to Bastien. "It's synchronised now. Head south east. It'll get hotter the closer you get to him."

"Will you be okay?" Thando asked, and Bastien guessed what he was thinking - _south east_ probably meant the Cape Flats.

"Becky's coming with me," he assured. "You guys stay here, see if you can find anything in the club that might give you a hint as to where our sea witch has gone."

He directed his comments mostly to Vuyo. Now that she was here, he planned on putting her to work. Thando pulled a face.

"That's not fair. I dealt with Nkhosi last time!"

Bastien gave him a bracing pat on the shoulder. "And I salute your sacrifice."

A sharp cough caused them all to turn around, and Bastien felt his neck go very hot as his gaze fell on Becky's aunt. Marina's arms were folded, and she eyed the three locals with suspicion, before directing her attention to her niece.

"The ambulance is leaving," she said. "I'll text you when we've seen the doctor. Mum says, and I quote," she pulled a face, before reciting. "' _Get going and give him a good spanking from me'_."

Bastien could not help himself - he sniggered into the back of his hand. He was in danger of liking Becky's grandmother a lot. The Shadowchaser herself just chewed on her lip.

"Marina-"

Her aunt held up a hand.

"Save it. I don't want to hear it right now. Talk to me tomorrow after I've had time to digest everything."

After she'd had time to hear all sorts of things from her fiancé, Bastien could not help but think cynically, but it seemed that it would do for Becky for now. She looked more than a little relieved when Marina accepted a hug.

"Get going, Rebecca! Before I come over there and join you on those bikes! It's been so long since I've gone riding with a man!"

"For the thousandth time, Mum! Put your mask back on before I superglue it to your face!"

On second thoughts, Bastien conceded as he pulled out the spare helmet, maybe he would be safer with Becky.


	7. Flowers

**A/N:** Rating in full force in this chapter for adult subject matter. You have been warned.

Also thank you to my adorable husband 7th Librarian for planning and drafting the duel, after I came to the sobering realisation that I'm middle aged and find the game exhausting now.

* * *

 **Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 7: Flowers**

Nyanga was known as the murder capital of South Africa.

It was a title that was hard to argue with. They had only been there fifteen seconds and Becky was already certain that they were going to be murdered. Or mugged. Or possibly both. There was just something about the area that put the hairs on the back of your neck up, particularly at night.

"I should have sent Thando..." Bastien muttered, already glancing suspiciously up and down the short platform. As with many locations in or around the Cape Flats, Bastien had refused to take his bike anywhere near it, so the two Shadowchasers had parked up in Pinelands and jumped on the Metrorail as soon as the crystal had started pulling them south.

"If you'd known we were coming the point of this exercise would have been moot," Becky pointed out, folding her arms as danger prickled at her senses. Already she could hear the telltale sounds of a large group moving around a nearby street. "We're here now. Let's just get in, get out, and go home."

 _Home._ Her heart tugged in her chest. Her home was the other side of the world, and the people who made it up were mad at her. She had never felt so adrift.

"Alright…" Pulling his hood up around his face, Bastien tucked the crystal back into his pocket. "This way."

'This way' was down the side of the secondary school, before turning off north, down long streets of small compact concrete housing. Becky could see that some effort had been made to update the living conditions of the township. Here and there, rows of orange single-story prefabricated homes had been erected. But the exhausted looking concrete blocks around them betrayed the reality of the neighbourhood, and as they followed the road further, smaller shacks made of corrugated iron, cardboard and beaten wood began to crop up in the narrow gaps between the buildings.

"Do you know where you're going?" she whispered to her colleague. Though it was late, the neighbourhood was by no means quiet. The sounds of life - talking, music and crying - drifted from the informal housing, and down the next street, Becky had already clocked a group of five men, not much older than herself, gathered around a beaten up truck and making a lot of noise. She was relieved when Bastien turned them off the road and down another street. Both of them stuck close to the shadows and kept their feet light.

"No," he admitted, the muscles in his arms working as he turned the crystal over in his pocket. "We try not to go into Nyanga unless necessary, and usually Thando goes alone - too much attention."

Becky had to concede that wisdom - Bastien was probably the only white guy for miles. "What about the Shadowkind who live here?"

Bastien shrugged. "There's only a handful of them that I know of - and most of them don't want our help. Brings more trouble than it's worth."

Becky understood. Nyanga was a township on a knife edge. Back in the late 1940s it had become a dumping ground for black migrant labourers. Land was allocated by cultural background by the local authorities, and the police encouraged violence between rival gangs, believing that the blacks would be too busy fighting each other to even think of challenging the system. Though Apartheid had ended long ago, to this day the tensions between the different factions were still high, and it did not take much for violence to explode into the streets.

A buzz in her pocket made her jump and she carefully pulled it out enough to see the screen. It was Marina, informing her that they had arrived at the hospital and were waiting for Lihle to go in for surgery. Becky felt a momentary flash of guilt - her grandmother was heading for the table, and it was partially her fault for inviting Marko's attention in the club. But she did not let it last. Ruan would be at hospital, and that was one approaching argument that was not conducive to a healing environment. Lihle would be fine with the rest of her family to watch over her. She had a job to do, putting one of the thugs responsible behind bars.

So why, in the midst of one of the most dangerous places in the world, could she not keep her thoughts away from her family?

"Everything okay?" her colleague asked, and Becky quickly slid her phone away before they could attract the attention of any lurking muggers.

"Yeah. Nana's going in for surgery." She explained. Keeping her hands clenched in her pockets, she turned her head and scanned the street. The feeling of being exposed was overwhelming, and she knew that their location was only half the problem.

"So now they know," Bastien said. He sounded grim - no doubt he was entertaining thoughts of how exactly Ruan felt about this.

"Yeah...they made that clear in the ambulance," Becky muttered. She was still reeling from the way her mother and sister had pounced on her as soon as Lihle had been securely parked on the stretcher, and her resentment burst out of her now. "This is such a mess. How does every other Shadowchaser manage the secret?"

Bastien shrugged. "I have no idea. I can only speak for my own, and that's probably not helpful."

"Oh no, please - I have no ideas so anything is helpful right now." Not to mention that thinking about it was a pleasant distraction from sneaking in the shadows with her own thoughts.

Bastien let out a slow thoughtful breath. "It's different - I'm nowhere near as close with my folks as you are with your family. They were satisfied when I told them I had a private security job and didn't ask more."

It occurred to Becky to ask what people who _were_ close to him thought, such as his wife. But that would be far too insensitive, so she took another option. "What about Thando's family?"

Bastien's expression was painful. "His father and brother are locked up, so they don't know. And his mother believes in the supernatural anyway, so he just told her the truth - she was fine with it."

Becky kicked herself - so much for not being insensitive. She had read Thando's file too, but it had slipped her mind that half of his immediate family were in jail.

"Vuyo's mother is an incantifer," Bastien continued. Seeing her surprise, he added, "It's a very long story. But even if she weren't, everyone knows that Vuyo's a sangoma too, so no big secret to hide there. As for our other two Shadowchasers, one of them is orphaned and the other doesn't speak to her family. So no help there either."

He looked so apologetic that Becky could not fault him for it. Instead she sighed. "Thanks for trying."

He gave her another look. "Are they all against you?"

She shook her head. "Nana's on my side…" She trailed off, not wanting to give voice to the rest. Once her mother had been assured by the paramedics that Lihle was not bleeding to death (a long process) she had turned all of her anxiety onto her daughter. The hysterical shouts played out clearly once more in Becky's mind. How could she have lied to them? How could she put herself in such danger like that? How could she be involved with such horrible people? How could she believe such lunacy?

The last one had been a sticking point of Andi's too, which had only served to hammer Becky's mood further. She could see the disbelief that had tainted Andi's features - incredulity that her sister could believe in such stupid things. Of course ghosts weren't real. Of course demons didn't exist. Becky was dedicating her life to a fantasy, and Andi could not be more disappointed - she had always thought her sister was intelligent.

Then, just when Becky had thought she could take no more, Lihle had finished being hooked up to an IV and had swept back into the argument, shaming the entire family for being so close minded and for not thanking Becky for saving their lives. It might have been enough, had Elize not made the colossal mistake of insinuating that her mother was on morphine and did not understand what was going on. Marina and Vi's efforts to mediate had been fruitless as Lihle had exploded, and pretty soon all six women had been shouting at each other, oblivious to the paramedic's efforts to diffuse the situation.

Arguments were a fact of life in any family, and Becky knew that hers were no exception - particularly with so many strongly minded women in one place - but to be the instigator of such a huge family fight left her with a crushing sense of guilt. There was no getting around it. She had provoked this fight. Would her family speak to her again after tonight?

"What could I have done differently?" she asked, thrusting her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket. Bastien was silent for a long time.

"I don't think you could have done anything," he admitted. "Marko showing up was just really bad luck. If he hadn't opened his fat mouth, you might have got away with it."

 _That_ was what she needed to hear. Becky's eyes narrowed and her mind immediately focused. Marko had ordered her grandmother shot. He had tried to shoot Marina. And he had blabbed about her work to her family. He was a dead man when she got her hands on him.

"This way," Bastien indicated, turning into the darkness of another side street. The concrete was disappearing, giving way to shacks of wood and tin. Between the tightly packed buildings, conversation was loud and angry. Nobody here slept tightly or peacefully.

"What do we do once we grab him?" she asked, shifting her brain onto more practical matters. "I mean, I know what the procedure is for dealing with demons, but he's not going to sit still and just let us draw containment circles around him."

It was a valid concern, and she could see from the frown on Bastien's face that he had not considered it either. Training dictated that you stalled or stunned the demon while putting down the necessary spells to contain or banish them. She did not like their odds of beating Marko down until he stopped moving in the middle of Nyanga - there was no telling how many friends he might have in a place like this. And stalling him probably wouldn't work either - they had nothing to entice him to remain.

"He's only half demon…" Bastien mused thoughtfully. "You managed okay on your own at the club. If we can get the jump on him-"

"You don't belong here."

Figures slid free of the alleys in front of them, barring their way. Three in total - a man and two women. They looked angry and nasty as humans, but there was the tell-tale slitted pupils and faint scaling on their necks and hands that meant they were even nastier as snake-blooded. "Shadowchasers!"

"Nice to be recognized." Bastien's voice was dry and unconcerned. He didn't slow down for a second, sweeping under a sloppy blow and flipping his assailant over his back before grappling with the other woman.

Becky did slow, but didn't stop. Her training was already taking over. Countless drills and training exercises had been hammered into her. She had been on edge since arriving in Cape Town, and now that she had a target, reflexes kicked in.

 _In one against many, defeating an enemy in the shortest, most efficient way possible is crucial. You don't have time for mistakes. And against Shadowkind, you don't have time for mercy._

She crouched low over his sweeping grab, free hand hauling her arming sword from its sheath. She braked just before they collided, sword carving a shallow cut from hip to shoulder over his body. He howled in pain, cut off as Becky's fist slammed into his throat and dropped him to his knees. A hard kick sent him sprawling backwards.

His 'ambush' was already happening, two more snake-blooded bolting out of the alley next to her to take her blind spot. But they weren't close enough to do it in time and Becky spun, the sudden threat of her sword driving them back.

They danced in front of her a bit, distracted by her blade and then tried to lunge around it. But they didn't do it in unison and it was to their cost. Becky caught the wrist of one and spun him into the other. Hisses of frustration and curses mixed as they went down in a heap, both almost literally slithering free back to their feet and producing knives.

Her sword cut through the cheap metals with two swift slashes and then their skin in another two. Shallow wounds, meant more for pain than lethality and it showed as they backed up, cursing at her even as their comrade got to their feet.

Becky shot forwards and the pommel of her weapon sent a few teeth flying as she whipped into a roundhouse kick that landed on the wound of the leader, smashing him into the alley wall. The third seized her around the neck in a strangling bear hug, releasing her with shriek as her weapon pierced his foot briefly.

They all blindly staggered to their feet, scrambling away as she advanced on them. They were joined by Bastien's two attackers - having been joined by a third - running away just as quickly, the older Shadowchaser waving the jewel at her. "Don't worry about them. It just means we're getting close and Marko's getting desperate."

He didn't have to tell her twice. With his usual gang in Shadowchaser custody, or kidnapped by a sea witch, Marko had no choice but to be desperate. But clearly he still had enough friends to make a difference. "The whole neighbourhood probably knows to look out for us."

"Hmm…" Bastien tactfully did not voice his obvious agreement. Instead he resheathed his sword and scanned the nest of rickety houses. "Let's get moving before those guys come back with friends. Magic crystal says this way."

She followed, tucking her own weapons out of sight. She could see the curious looks he was shooting out of the corner of his eye. "...what?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, before smiling sheepishly at her look of disbelief. "...okay, something. You have two swords?"

He sounded curious and just a tiny bit jealous. The minute pout on his face made Becky laugh.

"Yeah, nobody gets normal training in Backwater," she remarked ruefully. "My mentor thinks it's a waste just to use one hand when you have two perfectly good ones. Only the long sword is magical though - the short one is normal."

Bastien was practically sulking as they moved deeper between the houses. "Well, I feel robbed."

Becky smiled sympathetically. "Your mentor was more traditional?"

"Not at all," Bastien huffed. "But he spent most of my training with his leg in plaster - two weeks after I started, he broke it in fifteen places and you can't heal that many breaks with magic. I had to learn most of my combat training from youtube."

She could not help herself - Becky burst out laughing, and immediately struggled to smother it as the noise bounced off the eerily quiet neighbourhood. They were getting deeper into the layers of housing, the leaning walls and thin roofs becoming more and more unstable looking as they went. Small gaps between them formed tiny side streets, where people stood or sat in the shadows. Occasionally the faintest snatches of life would appear from within - the glow of a cigarette, or the hasty rustling of clothing or bags being swapped in the dark. Becky shivered as she recalled that it hadn't been too many generations ago that her family had lived in similar conditions in Port Elizabeth. Her grandmother had been right - in five generations they had gone from segregation and the harshest poverty imaginable to comfort and reasonable financial stability. Her ancestors would never have believed it.

"Can you hear music?" her colleague asked. Becky snapped out of her musings and realised that he was right. Somewhere nearby came the sounds of life.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Not too far away." As they reached the end of the backstreet, she shrank back into the shadows and was relieved when Bastien did the same.

They had rejoined a main street, lined with more small homes, tiny businesses, and a bar at the end. An effort had been made to make the road look nicer, by lining the pavement with trees, but most of them were dry and dead. Crowds of people - mostly young men - formed in doorways or slouched down the street with obnoxious entitlement. A group of three young women were gathered around the nearest spindly tree, and Becky felt her eyes narrow. It was not the obvious nature of their appearance that astonished her - she was a city girl after all - but the fact that two of them were elves. A cautious glance up the street revealed even more Shadowkind of every species, loitering with intent outside the bar, or on the corner of the pavement.

"...you didn't mention that Cape Town has a Shadowkind red light district hiding in the murder capital," she hissed at her colleague.

"To be honest, I didn't know," Bastien admitted, his stride becoming noticeably more forced as they continued down the street. "We don't come down here often. We have enough trouble keeping the gangs off the main roads and out of the CBD, let alone trying to take them on in the heart of the Flats."

Becky was not sure why she was surprised - it was a truth universally acknowledged that if you could think of it, someone had a fetish for it, and magical creatures were no exception. But seeing it advertised so blatantly in the middle of a neighbourhood full of mundanes took a lot of getting used to.

"There's about twelve Shadowkind on this side of the street alone," she said, withdrawing slowly back down the side street. "We are never going to get down there without being recognised."

"Let's try and skirt it," Bastien suggested, shoving his hands back in his pockets and weaving back between the tightly packed houses. Becky followed, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she went.

"What kind of power base does Marko have here?" She had already guessed that it was wide reaching - Rana's earlier comment about this being his turf had proved that - but she was starting to get an idea of how deep it really was.

"Marko deals in anything if it gets him money," Bastien explained. "Makes him a lot of friends. It's one of the reasons we've never been able to sting him - he could be anywhere in the Flats and anyone would hide him."

Now it made sense. Becky was determined to get Marko for her grandmother. Bastien was determined because for the first time, they had proof, witnesses and a hot trail to follow. It was probably the closest he had ever come to landing him. Fresh resolve hardened in Becky - she would not let him down.

It was getting harder to move around. Most of the tiny back alleys had been covered with tarpaulin or cracked sheets of metal to create extra shelter. People gathered beneath them, talking quietly, their eyes wandering darkly as they registered the newcomers. Becky kept her eyes ahead, her senses prickling as she thought she heard whispers follow them.

"Crystal's getting colder," Bastien muttered grimly as they turned onto a quieter road. "Marko has to be down that main street. It's the perfect hideout - any sign of a fight, they'll all be joining in."

"Mmm. More pressingly," Becky replied. "We've got a tail."

She spoke softly and calmly, but Bastien's back immediately went up regardless, though he did not make the classic mistake of turning around for a look. "You have visual?"

"Briefly." She'd spied their tail as they had turned off. "Humanoid Shadowkind, young, female, black. About five foot, slight build, pale pink and blue dress with trainers."

Bastien's eyes narrowed, and he glanced sideways at her. "Hostile?"

"Don't know. She's about twenty feet behind us - not drawing attention to herself."

Her colleague hissed through his teeth. "Turn left and we'll duck in."

Left was another small side street, with houses of tin and wood leaning heavily on each other. A narrow gap between two of them provided an ideal hiding place, and the two Shadowchasers ducked into the alcove. Becky could hear Bastien fall completely silent as the seconds ticked by and she did her best not to breathe.

Their stalker did not disappoint. She passed right by their hiding place before screeching to a halt as she realised that she had lost sight of her two targets. She squinted up the street, apparently confused, before pivoting around to check the street behind her. Becky frowned - while the girl was definitely Shadowkind, she was having a hard time discerning which species.

At a nudge from her colleague, she followed him, stepping out into the street behind the girl.

"Evening," Bastien said pleasantly, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. The girl whirled, tripping over the loose laces of her ill fitting trainers and crashing to the dirty street with a yelp of pain.

It was so incongruous with the tension that they had been feeling since they got off the train, that when Becky exchanged a look with Bastien, both of them started laughing. The girl pushed herself up, rubbing her lower back.

"It's not funny!" Her mortification was evident in her voice, and Becky was suddenly struck by how young she looked.

"You're right, it's not," Bastien admitted, as the two of them approached her. "But it's been a while since we've had an ungraceful stalker."

They both offered her a hand, but it was Becky's that she took. Beneath her grasp, Becky could feel bony fingers, and paper thin skin that was cool to touch. She did not look much older than thirteen - her face was gaunt in the dark shadows. Up close she still could not tell what sort of Shadowkind she was.

"I wasn't stalking," she said wrapping both arms around her waist, and hugging herself through her thin dress. "I wanted to talk to you out of sight…" her tongue seemed to seize, as anxiety took over. "...you _are_ Shadowchasers, yes?"

"Yeah," Becky nodded, wondering how she could miss the markings on their faces.

"You're looking for Marko?" Her eyes darted nervously around the tiny side street, as though expecting the demon to pop up from behind one of the shacks.

"You know where he is?" Bastien asked. She nodded.

"He's holed up in the bar back there," she jerked her head back towards the main road. "He came in about an hour ago. Told us all to keep an eye out for you."

Bastien hissed. "We need to find him before those ophidia get word to him." Becky understood his drive - they were so close to nailing him, and they couldn't let him slip away now.

"What's your name?" she asked. The girl's eyes widened in surprise - she wondered how long it had been since someone had asked her that.

"Fatima."

"Not complaining or anything, Fatima, but why are you helping us?" she asked, deliberately making her voice gentle, and hoping that she would not take it as an insult. "Marko told you to alert him if we showed up, and you're putting yourself in danger by talking to us."

For the first time, Fatima's naked fear drained away, replaced instead with something deeper and more crushing. "I don't want to help Marko. He has my cloak."

Now it made sense, Becky realised. Fatima was a selkie. That was why she had not recognised her (her knowledge of marine Shadowkind being less than perfect), and why something felt off about her humanoid appearance. She was stuck that way and confined to dry land as long as Marko held her cloak in his possession.

"He's had it for years," she was speaking very fast now, the words pouring out almost desperately. "I don't know where he's keeping it hidden. But if you arrest him you can make him tell you. I-" her throat seemed to clench around the words, and tears shimmered in her dark eyes. "I can't stay in this place! I can't! I can't bear it any more-"

The pieces were falling together, and Becky knew instinctively that a hug would not be welcomed by this fragile girl, barely out of childhood. So she found a tissue instead and passed it over. Fatima soaked up her tears before they could even hit her cheeks.

"Alright, we'll do what we can." She had to give Bastien credit - she would trust him when he used that tone of voice. "How can you get us in? Is there a back way into the building?"

She shook her head. "The bar backs out into a group of shacks. You'd have to climb over them to get in that way. The only other way in is the front."

Becky pulled a face - that meant navigating the busy main road, and bypassing a long line of Shadowkind, all of whom knew to be on the lookout for them.

"Alright…" her colleague did not sound sure, but time was running short, and they could not dismiss a willing ally in a place like this. "Let's go and check it out again. Walking around like this isn't getting us anywhere."

They were both surprised when the selkie turned and slid down a narrow gap between two shacks, instead of turning back the way they came. Shrugging, Becky fell into step behind her, turning sideways to squeeze between the plates of iron and rotting planks of wood. Bastien followed, carefully sucking in a breath has he tried not to knock the fragile structures over.

It did not take long to realise what Fatima's intentions were as she squeezed them through another side street, and down a twisting maze of tiny pathways. The dirt tracks were slippery and the smell of waste made Becky's eyes water. Through loose scraps of fabric that made up the doorways, she caught glimpses of bodies moving around in the dark dwellings. Twice she saw round curious eyes peering out at knee height, before darting back inside with a frightened gasp.

"Fatima," unable to bear the tense silence that the party walked in, Becky caught the girl's attention as she hopped over an open drain and into the next dusty street. "How many people does Marko have around him?"

"Loyal to him?" Fatima asked. Seeing the nod, she continued as Becky jumped the sewer herself. "There are eleven men - the guy who owns the bar, his son, and nine others. There are twenty five girls including me - only six of them aren't loyal to him, but they're still afraid of him so they won't help us. I can't guarantee how many of them will be in the bar. Most of us hit the streets and stay there until we find a mark to bring back...if they want to come back," she amended with a mutter.

If Bastien was at all fazed by the casual description of how the girls made their business, he didn't show it as he too leaped over the sewer. Becky had to smile a tiny bit as he stumbled - he really was not the most graceful of creatures. "How many are Shadowkind?"

Fatima began counting. "The bar owner is a bugbear - his son is half. The rest of the men are a mix – human and elves. Five of the girls are elves. They have eleven half-elf daughters. Another three are fey. That's it."

Becky frowned. "No succubi?"

Fatima shook her head. "He usually keeps his prized Shadowkind girls in the city. They fetch good prices from rich people who want something exotic." She glanced around at the run down neighbourhood. "This is where we go when they don't want us anymore."

Becky wondered why nobody would want her - she was young, innocent looking, and compliant thanks to her captivity. She must have seen Becky's confusion, because she added. "I cried. All the time. No one wants a crier."

The urge to hug was overwhelming, but Becky resisted and followed her down the dusty streets.

"How long has Marko had your cloak?" she asked instead.

There was a disturbing quality to the way the girl's eyes seemed to empty. "Two years."

"Is that how long he's been here?" she asked. Their guide shook her head.

"He's been here for ages. Some of the elves in this neighbourhood have been working for him since the seventies - back when it was still segregated."

"Don't they know they can come to us for help?" Bastien asked. Becky grimaced, and Fatima blinked at him, before her face twisted into pity - she felt sad that he apparently did not understand.

"They don't want help," she said, sliding down another narrow alley between two wooden lean-tos. "They've been at it too long. Or they were born into it. Some of the younger girls want out, but like I said, they're too scared - he's got a hold on all of us."

Becky wondered what sort of hold Marko had on her. Her cloak was obvious a big one, but not one that would have prevented her from seeking out the Shadowchasers. There was something deeper at work, and she was sure it had something to do with her outburst earlier.

"I wasn't sure you were real," Fatima whispered, her tiny form almost lost in the shadow side street ahead. For the first time that evening, she sounded awestruck. "Shadowchasers, I mean. Didn't know you existed until I heard Heelis complaining about you - I think you impounded one of his suppliers a few months ago. He was so angry." She shuddered. "I asked one of the girls later who you were. She told me if she caught me asking anyone else about you she'd...well, I didn't ask again."

She glanced around before turning down a narrow alley between two concrete buildings. "Here." She nodded to the street beyond and waited for the two Shadowchasers to catch up.

Their travels had looped them around, and they had come out on the opposite side of the bar. The noise was more intense down this end, with a heavy base rumbling through the dirt. To Becky's right, she could see the row of dead trees, and the girls still lining them hopefully. Two D-Wheels rolled up down the far end, and several of the women gravitated off towards them. Down the other end, a truck was parked next to the bar, apparently the source of the heavy base. A group of young men had gathered around it, and happy shouts went up as one of their friends reappeared from inside the busy bar with a handful of bottles.

"Business is booming then," Becky quipped. Fatima did not smile - her face was pinched into a frown as she observed the street.

"There's no other door," Bastien stated. "We'll have to sneak past those guys without being noticed."

"Not possible," Becky said cynically. "No offence Bastien but you're hardly inconspicuous in this neighbourhood. They'll pick you out easy. And as soon as they see the Shadowkind see the mark on our faces, we are all buggered."

"I can make them move," Fatima stated. Her body had stiffened, and she had wrapped her arms around her stomach. "As soon as they clear off, come join me. And whatever they do, do not come and help me." She warned, a note of pleading in her voice. Bastien's concern was obvious, so it was up to Becky to nod in agreement. Steeling herself, Fatima stepped out into the street, her shoulders hunched over as she crossed the street. Nobody seemed to pay her any mind.

"What do you think?" Bastien asked, nodding in the direction of the young selkie. Becky shuddered.

"That poor girl," she muttered. She wanted to say more, but what could she possibly add? "Did you know?"

Bastien sighed. "That some of his girls were being forced to prostitute themselves? No...but it doesn't surprise me," he admitted. "They can't all be like Rana. But when it's a problem this big-" he gestured to the street a little helplessly. Across the road, Fatima had stepped up onto the pavement and was widely skirting the pair of bikers as she headed for the bar. "I hope we can trust her."

Becky's knee jerk reaction to defend Fatima was brought to a screeching halt almost instantly. He had a point - they had met her two minutes ago, and while she could understand wanting to escape Marko's clutches, she was taking a big risk by helping them. For all they knew, she could be luring them into a trap.

"It might be an idea for you to stay out here," she stated. Seeing her colleague open his mouth to argue, she cut across quickly. "I'm serious, Bastien. There is no way you'll be able to walk into that bar without drawing attention. If it is a trap, better if only one of us springs it. If Marko tries to make a break for it, you'll be out here ready to grab him. And if I don't come out in fifteen minutes, you can call for backup."

"Are you sure?" he folded his arms, his expression intent in the darkness of the grim back street. "I'm not nuts about you heading in there on your own."

"I'm not nuts about being in there on my own," Becky retorted. Indeed, she only became more nervous as she realised that this would be her first proper mission as a fully fledged Shadowchaser. "But I'll feel a whole lot better if you're in a position to get help if I need it."

Bastien chewed over the idea, his eyes drifting back to Fatima. The young girl was approaching the bar, her expression skittish as she tried to slide past the truck and the occupants hanging off the back. She squeaked as she was swept up in a strong meaty arm.

"Hey Fati - you got something for me?" the man sitting on the trailer looked as though he spent the day lifting weights for a living, and his small dark eyes lit up in delight as he yanked the unresisting girl into his lap and began to pinch roughly at her breast. Fatima went stiff under his grasp, but she made no effort to struggle - she probably knew it would be fruitless. Becky felt her hands tighten into fists.

"Neo I really can't stay-"

"Yes you can," he said bluntly. Still holding on to her, he got up from his sitting position, picked her up and pressed her face down against the bed of the truck. "Don't worry, I'll pay you good like I always do." He yanked her dress up and his fingers went to his waistband, as he jerked his head casually at his friends. "Gather round boys - don't want to give the street a show."

The gang of six men obeyed, forming a protective ring around the back of the truck. In the corner of Becky's vision, she saw Bastien move, and she seized his wrist before he could charge out across the street.

"She said not to follow!" she hissed. She could not put her finger on why, but she had a feeling that Fatima had a plan.

"You sure you don't want to go inside?" the girl piped up, her voice faint from where the man was pressing her down into the hard metal. Neo snorted.

"Nope. Happy here," he shrugged. "Besides, I don't want to listen to Doran shooting his fat mouth off." He spared the bar a nasty glare before going back to unzipping his jeans.

"Doran's busy out back," Fatima's reported. "He went out there with your sister about half an hour ago."

Now it was Neo's turn to go stiff. He froze, his jeans half way down his backside. Several of his friends turned their heads and eyed the girl curiously.

"You what?" his voice had dropped into a harsh angry growl as he seized Fatima by the arm and flipped her over onto her back. "What exactly did you see?"

"Well it was him _and_ Gelt - y'know, the new guy?" Fatima spun the tale masterfully. "They were looking for some ass and Gelt asked if I'd take it. Then Doran said they should look for Khetty - said she'd let him stick it anywhere, and you don't even need to pay her. Said she likes it too much to ask for cash - especially from him."

It was so predictable that Becky almost didn't believe it. There was a bang as Neo's fist slammed into his own truck mere inches from Fatima's head.

"That fucker! Come on guys!"

His friends immediately scrambled, grabbing their jackets off the back of the truck and marching toward the bar. Neo was already shouldering his way in, with a face like thunder. Shaking, Fatima got slowly up from her prone position, glancing left and right down the street. Fortunately, explosions of temper seemed to be so common that nobody on the street had even blinked an eye.

Becky turned to Bastien. "Last chance to object," she warned. He shook his head.

"No, you're right. I'll wait here. If I don't hear from you in fifteen, I'm calling Thando. If you need help urgently, take one of these." He pressed a small vial into her hands. "It's one of Vuyo's tricks - smash it into the floor. I'll see it and come running."

Doing her best to squash her nerves, Becky pocketed the vial and turned out into the street. She kept her pace unhurried as she crossed the road, and she shook her hair over her face, less anyone look too closely at her mark. Fatima was wiping the dust of her bruised legs as she stepped onto the pavement.

"Are you okay?" Becky wished that she did not have to sound so serious. Fatima could not (or perhaps would not) look her in the eye as she shrugged.

"Come on. Keep your head down. And don't make eye contact with anyone, especially the other girls," her voice was low and urgent. "Some of them are like me, but most of them will think you're a new girl trying to muscle in on their turf."

She did not have to tell her twice - Becky could already feel the hostile glares beginning to fall on her back, and she shoved her hands deep into her jacket pockets and fell quickly into her favourite murder walk as she followed Fatima through the front door.

The first thing that hit Becky was the noise - Neo appeared not to have wasted any time, and half of the bar was in an all out brawl. Blood, teeth and insults were being hurled through the air as men and women pulled out knives, fists or grabbed furniture and joined the fray.

The second most obvious thing was that 'bar' was a very loose term. The room resembled a run down off license that just happened to be hosting a party. The walls were stacked high with boxes, padlocked shut. Three crates formed the counter, which held a cashbox, also padlocked and chained in place. Rickety tables and chairs had been scattered through the room and were now being picked up and cracked over people's heads.

Fatima went pale at the sight of it, realising that she had seriously underestimated the repercussions of her lie. "Marko's going to hear this any moment!" She seized Becky's sleeve and began to pull her around the edge of the room. "Come on - keep close!"

Becky could feel her heart beating in her chest as it always did at the prospect of a fight. Fatima slid between the punch-ups with relative ease, but Becky was taller and had to duck and twist to avoid being struck by flailing fists or wild elbows. Fatima yelped in disgust as a body crashed to the ground next to her, a knife wound in the man's throat spurting blood in a high hot arc into the air.

"Does this happen often?" Becky shouted to her companion.

"Sometimes," Fatima admitted, wiping the blood onto her dress. She yelped and leaped back onto Becky's foot as a bugbear crashed into the boxes ahead of them, splintering them into kindling and crushing several bottles within. He blinked stupidly up at them, before his dark eyes narrowed in furious anger at the two girls.

"Shado-"

Becky seized a nearby bottle and brought it down with all her strength over his head. The bugbear's eyes rolled back instantly, as beer and shards of glass trickled down his greasy hair.

"Good thinking," Fatima said, stepping over the prostrate man's legs. "Through here."

They jumped the counter and slid through the door into the open air behind the building. Shacks lined the short pathway outside, the sky peeking through gaps between the tarpaulin that had been strung up overhead. From behind each wall of corrugated iron, Becky could hear moans and grunts - apparently nobody out here could hear or care about the punch up going on inside.

"He's in that one there," Fatima pointed at the fourth shack on the left. A curtain twitched to their left and she quickly pulled Becky flat against the nearest wall. A muscular man emerged from the shack within, zipping up his flies and stretching as he headed for the bar. Becky's fist clenched around her sword, but she resisted the urge to club his head in. That was not her mission right now.

"...do I have to come with you?" Fatima asked, tentatively. Becky's eyes widened in surprise, before narrowing suspiciously. Seeing this, Fatima looked down at her shoes.

"You know I said some of the girls wanted out but were afraid of him?" Becky nodded, and the girl continued. "I'm one of them. That man is a monster. He's done things...I didn't even know they were possible until I came to the surface."

"So why help me?" Becky found herself asking again. Fatima wrapped her arms around her tiny middle.

"I have nothing left to lose," she admitted quietly.

"You sure about that?"

The voice was a menacing hiss, and Becky had barely enough time to draw one of her swords before arms swept Fatima up in a headlock. From across the courtyard, two of the snake-blooded from earlier slid their way out from behind tattered curtains. One of them was still limping from where Becky had stabbed him in the foot. The third had seized the selkie from behind and now pressed her switchblade against her throat.

"Put the sword down, Shadowchaser." Her voice was raspy. Becky froze, one hand ready and armed, the other still in her bag feeling for her shorter weapon. Two more opponents were slipping free of the shadows for a total of five. She had no chance of taking out all of them.

"No don't listen to them!" Fatima was desperate, struggling even as the knife cut a thin red line into her throat. "Let me die, just get to Marko!"

It was a little late for that as the demon himself appeared from one of the shacks. He had found time to patch himself up since the club, for his nose had stopped bleeding. He snarled at the sight of the Shadowchaser, his black eyes snapping accusingly between her and the selkie, trapped in the arms of the snake-blooded.

"You're all shit lookouts!" he sneered at his help. Adrenaline surged, and Becky grasped her sword, but before she could pull it free, one of the snake-blooded pounced, squeezing her with thick muscular arms. Her fingers released their grip instantly and she strained to break free. Hot disgusting breath hissed in her ear.

"Keep struggling and I'll knife _your_ foot," her captor warned. She fell still instantly, her heart pounding into her chest. Marko emerged completely from his hideout. A heavy duffle bag dropped off his shoulder to the ground, and he pulled a knife out from underneath his coat. All around the courtyard faces, some nervous, some perversely delighted were appearing behind the curtains and between the slats of the shacks.

 _No way out_ , Becky realised grimly, and she cursed herself for not calling for Bastien when she had the chance.

"Where's the other one?" Marko was demanding. Two of the snake-blooded blinked slowly at him before shrugging.

"Didn't see him," they admitted. Marko spat on the ground.

"He won't be far away." He brandished his knife angrily at Fatima. "Take them both down to the canal and do what you like with them - just keep it quiet."

Becky felt a tongue flick against her neck. "Never fucked a Shadowchaser before…" Her captor was giddy with delight, but Becky was more interested in the other three snake-blooded. The two men and the remaining woman were exchanging looks with each other, their expressions full of contempt as Marko retrieved his duffle bag.

"Fine." The larger of the two men shrugged, his eyes narrow as he watched the demon. "We'll do what we want with them...but what are we going to do with you?"

Marko froze. Behind her, Becky felt her captor go stiff, confused at the sudden turn of events. The woman holding Fatima seemed equally perplexed. They had obviously not rehearsed this. Behind them all, curtains twitched back as the occupants of the shacks finally became aware of the tension escalating outside their door.

"You're gonna do what I say," Marko stated, flipping his blade up and pointing at the tall snake-blooded.

"Why?" came the quick fire response. "Your brother isn't here, Marko. Neither are the rest of your friends. And they aren't coming back, else you wouldn't be running away from Shadowchasers."

His two followers moved to either side of the half-demon, fencing him in against the shacks. Becky's captor seemed just as confused as she was, his head flitting back and forth. She took the chance and slipped her hand down her side, into the bag at her hip.

"You don't want to fuck with me, Ferrah," Marko warned, his voice low and menacing.

"You have _nothing_ any more, Marko," the snake-blooded advanced, his eyes narrow slits, alight with bloodlust. "Time you moved over for someone who doesn't need his daddy to make threats!"

They moved fast, Ferrah's two friend's launching themselves at Marko with lightning speed, while the demon's attention was on the leader himself. Before they could even touch him however, magic flared through the courtyard, as Marko sliced the palm of his hand open and seemed to toss flecks of blood at his attackers. They scythed through the air like blades and struck the three of them in the face, gouging deep wounds in their flesh and flaking scales off their skin.

"You like my threats now you jumped up little shit?" Marko's snarl was furious, in spite of the blood dripping from his nails into the ground. The woman holding Fatima captive tossed the selkie aside and bolted for the demon with a scream of rage at the sight of her comrades bleeding. Marko parried her knife strike with his own, and followed up with a strike to the throat which tore her neck open with sharp claw-like nails. People began to emerge from the shacks, roused by the noise and the smell of blood, just in time to witness the body of the woman slumping to the ground, jerking as blood pooled beneath her.

As soon as Fatima was free, Becky did not hesitate. She slammed her foot down hard on her captor's wounded limb and he shrieked loudly in her ear. Seizing the handle of her sword, she pulled it free and thrust the hilt of it backwards into the man's face. Hot blood splashed over her cheek and neck, as he staggered to the ground, howling in pain. She dispatched him with another blow to the head that left him unconscious in the dirt.

"Ling!" Ferrah seemed to forget about his injuries in an instant at the sight of the murdered woman twitching in the dirt at Marko's feet. "I'll kill you, you son of a-"

With superhuman speed, the demon had thrust a knife into Ferrah's exposed throat and up through his skull. The thug gaped helplessly, blood spraying over Marko's face as he struggled to breathe. But the worst was to come, as Marko thrust three fingers into his victim's mouth, seized his tongue, and pulled. The muscle tore free, a vein still dangling off the end like a lost light cord, blood dripping into a puddle on the floor as Ferrah crashed into a heap next to his friend.

Two more men - a teifling and an elf - burst from the shacks, body tackling the two remaining snake-blooded, who charged recklessly at the half demon. A half elf jumped onto the teifling's back, scratching at him with a shriek as she tried to pull him off. Another elf jumped toward the fray, her clothing dishevelled and her breasts exposed, and a knife in her hand. Others were running for the apparent safety of the bar as more fighters emerged and the courtyard exploded into chaos.

Becky stopped caring about Marko, Fatima or anything else as her quiet infiltration suddenly turned into a fight for survival. She was not sure of the sides, but everyone seemed to know which one they were on. She ducked and twisted out of the way of stray knives and misaimed fists, elbowing someone in the face when they tried to pounce on her instead of their target. Fishing in her pocket, she seized the glass vial that Bastien had given her and crushed it beneath her heel. A shower of red sparks shot up into the air like a firework. The punches were flowing so thick and fast around her that nobody seemed to notice the lightshow.

To her left, a line of fighters suddenly dropped to the ground, blood pouring from open wounds in their faces and necks. Over their prostrate forms, Marko ran, blood still dripping from his fingers. A half elf girl, no older than twelve went for him, her fist poised for a strike to the face, her face twisted in rage, but the demon backhanded her hard into the flimsy wall of a shack, without breaking his dash toward the bar. He was making a break for it.

Becky swore – in her plans to hold him down until Bastien arrived to contain him, she had not banked on the demon being a coward. She leaped after him, wading her way through the wrestling mass of bodies, and was forced to screech to a halt as a pair of combatants fell to the dust in front of her, kicking and squeezing for dominance. Marko had reached the edge of the crowd, and was making a scramble for the bar, where he would be swallowed up and vanish without a trace. There was no way she would catch up to him now and no way of stalling him.

Deep inside her bag, her duel disk bumped against her thigh.

 _Wait…_

It was risky. It was dangerous. She would be in so much trouble if it all went wrong…

"Move!"

Of all people to jump in Marko's way, Fatima was the last person Becky had expected. The tiny girl appeared from nowhere, all five foot of her barring the door back into the bar. She was the last person Marko had expected to see too, and it seemed to give him pause. Oblivious to the fight continuing to fly behind him, rage contorted over his face as he registered for the first time which of his girls had betrayed him. Fatima's legs began to tremble, but her gaze was steady.

She was prepared to die.

 _No choice._

Becky yanked her duel disk free, as Marko seized the girl by the hair and pulled her upright until only her toes brushed the dirt. She did not scream or struggle as the demon flexed his claws around her throat. Over his shoulder, her eyes met Becky's, afraid but resigned.

Not taking her eyes off the scene, Becky slid the inky black card into the base of her duel disk. It responded instantly, the back of her neck prickling as magic began to creep over the courtyard.

… _little Shadowchaser…what would you have us do?_

The magic teased at her ears like a whisper, and she fought down a shiver.

 _The demon is my opponent. Leave the girl._

 _As you wish…_

It was one of the strangest sensations she had ever experienced – she could feel the magic bending to her command. Marko's fist clenched around Fatima's throat, and flailed as his clawed fingernails suddenly sank through air. Fatima had vanished. Shadows thickened and tightened around the demon until it was impossible to see the bar, or hear the fight behind them. Becky felt a sweat break out on her neck and upper lip as she realised that they were completely sealed off.

 _He is strong…and so are you…_ the magic sounded delighted. _He will be fun to play with…_

Examining the thick purple mist that had swallowed them up, Marko turned, drawing up short as he recognised her. His initial alarm was draining away, back to his sharp, more calculating expression as he put two and two eyes narrowed at the magic swirling around them, and an impressed chuckle escaped.

"A Shadow Game?" he asked, shaking his head. "I didn't know you perfect law enforcement types had it in you."

Becky was not completely certain that she did have it in her. She had participated in several Shadow Games already, but she had never had to call one herself. It was unfamiliar and unsettling to realise just how aware the magic was – how consciously it responded, and how _eager_ it was to be wielded.

"Yeah well I didn't know you were such a massive coward, Marko. I mean, running away from a twenty year old girl is a bit pathetic."

Unsurprisingly, the demon began to bristle. "You don't scare me, Shadowchaser, and I'm happy to prove it!"

A faint pressure was starting to build in Becky's head – it felt like giggling.

 _How confident he seems to be…set the rules, little Shadowchaser...show him how frail his confidence is…_

There was something almost seductive about the way the magic whispered, far more potent than the kiss she had shared with Rana earlier. Gooseflesh was rising on Becky's arms, and she was suddenly acutely aware of her pulse. The possibilities were endless…she could think of anything, and the magic would comply…

 _Choose the rules…let us play with him…_

She looked at the demon across from her. Loathing had twisted his sharp face into something repulsive. She knew he was entertaining a million ways to hurt her when this was over.

A horrible jolt went through her stomach, as she realised that she was contemplating a million ways to hurt him too.

 _No penalty._ She forced herself to think. _Just keep everyone out, and don't release us until we have a winner._

As tempting as it was to inflict pain on him, she knew that she couldn't. Because she was better than him.

The shadows seemed to list in disappointment, but they swam lazily to obey. The pressure on her mind seemed to lift. She had not even realised that she had been shaking.

Marko's expression had taken on a curious quality, and he laughed scornfully.

"Maybe you don't have it in you," he sneered, tucking his knife away.

She had not expected someone like Marko to carry a duel disk on him, and she was not disappointed. Instead magic coalesced around his arm and solidified into a purple winged device, covered in scales and bone-like ridges. The deck materialised not a moment later.

"Wow, insecure much?" she drawled. "You _really_ want everyone to know just what you are, don't you? I'm surprised it's not breathing fire and chanting 'hail Satan' too."

Marko did not find her funny in the least - a muscle was working furiously above his right eye. "I am your end, Shadowchaser. And it starts now. I summon Mystic Tomato in attack position."

The size of a medium dog, the tomato had a face carved out of it like a jack-o-lantern and laughed obnoxiously at Becky (1400/1100).

"Then I set two cards face-down and end my turn."

Becky frowned at the cackling fruit. _He_ can't _be cliche enough to be running a fiend deck, surely..._ Curiosity still lingering, she drew. "I summon Seven's Knight!"

In a flash, a slender knight appeared in front of her, his glitzy gold armor decorated in large red 7's everywhere (700/700).

"And when I summon him, I can add the spell card 7! to my hand!" Becky caught the card her deck spat out and then held up another one. "Two Pair activates! We both pick one monster on our field and summon a copy of it from our decks!"

Marko placed another card on his disk and a new Mystic Tomato joined the first while a new Seven's Knight appeared on Becky's field. "You're summoning a bunch of weaklings…"

Becky pointedly ignored him "I search out another Seven's Knight!" She held it up before adding to her hand. "Then I open the Overlay Network!"

The world around her two monsters distorted, blurring them together and resolving into mounted warrior armed with a massive longbow (2100/1800). "Heroic Champion - Gandvia is Xyz Summoned!"

Marko rolled his eyes. "Heroic Champion? And you say _I'm_ insecure about who I am?"

He had her there. Feeling her face go hot, Becky scowled. "Gandiva, do me a favour? Turn one of those Mystic Tomatoes into ketchup!"

The warrior yanked an arrow from his quiver and fired in the blink of an eye. The arrow lanced right through the laughing tomato and it blew apart without even realizing it was dead.

 **Becky:** 8000

 **Marko:** 7300

Marko's grin spread to shark levels as a giant, tentacled mass began to materialize out of the darkness behind him."I use Mystic Tomato's effect to summon out Giant Kra-Corn!"

Becky stared in surprise at the behemoth. It was a gigantic ear of corn that loomed over the playing field, the bottom half gone to reveal a ugly beaked maw reminiscent of a giant squid. All with so many lashing legs encircling it, each of them as thick as she was. (1000/2500)

 _It's like a budget children's show,_ she found herself thinking. _If he summons a giant singing floret of broccoli next, I'll laugh...I'll probably be in trouble, but I'll still laugh._

"And don't get any clever ideas about using your Gandiva's effect, either. It only works on level four or lower monsters and Giant Kra-Corn is level eight!" Marko laughed. "But his effect works just fine! As long as he's on the field, all of my plants gain attack points equal to their combined base scores!"

Kra-Corn seemed to swell grotesquely and began to glow (2400/2500), the energy spreading to the remaining tomato which bulged to twice its size (2400/1100).

 _Okay, maybe it's too soon to laugh._ Becky let out a breath. Titanic monsters were nothing new in Duel Monsters, but that attack-boosting effect meant even Marko's weakest monsters were going to be very powerful the moment he summoned them. "I set two cards face-down and end my turn."

"Nervous, Shadowchaser?" Marko smirked as he drew. "You should be. You made a stupid mistake coming here tonight, and an even bigger fuck up by challenging me to a Shadow Game."

Becky felt herself scoff. "I'm not the one who was skipping town with a bag full of money and his tail between his legs."

She'd touched a nerve. Marko's fists clenched around his cards, and he jerked his head at Mystic Tomato, sending it exploding into mulch. "Fragrance Storm says I destroy a plant on the field, then draw one card. And if it's a plant, I can draw again."

He did so and shrugged. "Not a plant. Oh well."

Becky frowned. _Why kill his Tomato? That just means Kra-Corn can't boost its attack any more without any other plants._

She got her answer as his set card flipped up. "I activate Soul Rope! Since one of my monsters was destroyed, I can summon another from my deck so long as its level four or lower! So I summon Lonefire Blossom at the mere cost of one thousand life points."

 **Becky:** 8000

 **Marko:** 6300

The monster that had appeared in front of him barely reached his knees, not much more than a gnarled looking bulbed flower. Marko eyed it with the sort of fondness that felt dangerous and insincere. "Can't have a garden without just one flower, so why don't I summon this other one in my hand?" (500/1400)

Becky's frown deepened as a second of the ungainly flowers appeared. _Well at least it's not broccoli..._ Then her eyes widened as she remembered what Lonefire Blossom did. "Oh bollocks…"

"Told you you'd made a mistake!" Marko's expression was gleeful. "I activate my monster's ability, sacrificing it to summon out any other Plant I want from my deck!"

The two Lonefires bloomed, erupting into flames that swelled in size until they were large enough to transform into two more Giant Kra-Corns. "So now they all gain attack points equal to the base score of all my plants!"

Becky's eyes went wide as the three monsters began to swell to monstrous proportions, sprouting more and more tentacles, the kernals on each bulging dangerously. _Each Kra-Corn doesn't count its own attack score, but even so..._ (7000/2500 x3)

"Let me show you what a real attack looks like. Giant Kra-Corn attack her Heroic Champion! _Corn Harvest!_ "

Tentacles lashed out, coiling around Gandiva and tearing him to pieces with a few sharp tugs. Becky had just enough time to brace herself before two tentacles lashed over her body, sending her skidding backwards into the dirt.

 **Becky:** 3100

 **Marko:** 6300

 _Oww...forgot how real it feels...damn that smarts..._ she could hear Marko laughing as she staggered to one knee.

"That was for breaking my nose," the demon nodded to his second Giant Kra-Corn. "I'd love to stay and draw this out - believe me, I have _so_ many ideas on what to do with you - but I have places to be. _Corn Harvest!"_

"Reverse card open! Soul Rope!" Becky grit her teeth as the trap sucked away some of her life points. In a flash of light, the last Seven's Knight appeared in front of her in defence mode. "Snap, Marko!"

 **Becky:** 2100

 **Marko:** 6300

Marko sneered as she got back to her feet and added the last 7 to her hand, uncaring as Giant Kra-Corn's tentacles slithered over Becky's knight and crushed it into shards. "So what? I've still got one more monster!"

"And I've got one more trap - Defense Draw!" The card lifted, releasing a flash of light that drove the tentacles back. "I take no damage and then draw one card!"

"Lucky bitch…" Marko growled, his three monsters letting off guttural noises of frustration alongside their master. "I end my turn."

"What's your hurry? Afraid of what might be waiting for you on the other side of this game?" Becky asked, doing her best to ignore the pain-filled ache that was spreading all over her body. _I thought Backwater training in Shadow Games was overkill before - now I feel like it wasn't enough! That first attack nearly broke my ribs and that was the overflow damage!_

"What? Your boyfriend?" the demon's sneer became even more contemptuous. "Hoping you can stall long enough for him to put down enough spells to contain me? Please. I broke his nose already this week - happy to break the rest of him - that's if my men haven't got to him already."

"You _have_ no men," now it was Becky's turn to sneer. "All your favourite henchmen were just swept up by the sea witch, your brother's in our custody, and the rest of them turned on you the second they realised what a coward you are. And from what Rana told me, your father's not going to be much help either - too scared to come to Cape Town."

Marko's face was poisonous. "When I get hold of that slut, I'm going to fuck her until she bleeds...after I'm done with you. And that traitorous bitch, Fatima!"

 _Not a chance in hell._ Fresh determination filling her, Becky yanked a card from the top of her deck. "I activate all three of the 7! in my hand!"

The three spell cards materialized in front of her. They began to flash with wild lights and cheery music like a slot machine, before exploding in unison.

"Now I draw three cards and then gain seven hundred life points for each one!"

 **Becky:** 4200

 **Marko:** 6300

Becky drew the new cards and bit back an obvious sigh of relief. _Thank the Gods!_ "I activate Reinforcement of the Army to add a warrior to my hand! But she's not staying there for long - come out Queen's Paladin!"

Playing cards fluttered in front of her, scattering to reveal a blonde woman in front of her. Her armor and weapons were heavily decorated to show that she belonged to the Heart suit. (1800/1600)

Marko blinked. "Did I knock your brains out, Shadowchaser? That bitch is pathetic!"

"She has something you don't, Marko," Becky informed him, pulling a card from her deck. "Friends! Queen's Paladin lets me add King's Knight to my hand." Adding the card to her hand, she held up a spell. "Ties of the Brethren! I pay two thousand life points and then summon two monsters who share my Paladin's level, type and attribute! So I select King's Paladin and Ten's Knight!"

 **Becky:** 2200

 **Marko:** 6300

The first monster was a bearded knight, his orange heavy plate and spade-shaped battleaxe identifying him as belong to that suit (1900/1600). The other was a youth, scrawny with teenage years, clad in simple white armor, his sword a stylized '1' while his circular shield was decked out to be '0' (1400/1200).

"This is Duel Monsters, not poker." Marko drawled with an ugly sneer.

"Then why I am going for a Royal Flush? Because Queen's Paladin is in play, King's and Ten's both get their effects! I summon Jack's Paladin and Ace's Knight from my deck!" Becky slapped down the two new monsters. Jack's Paladin was taller than any of the others, his plate armor colored teal and blue while he had forgone a shield to wield two diamond-shaped scimitars (2400/1000). Ace's Knight, by contrast, looked to be a grizzled veteran, missing an eye and his red armor dented and scratched (2500/1000).

Jack's Paladin began to glow and Becky reached for her deck. "Jack's Paladin lets me search out a few specific cards from my deck when he's summoned, so I'll add the card that's going to turn your giant monsters into nothing but popcorn!"

"Oh please!" Marko rolled his eyes. "There's nothing you've got that's going to overpower my monsters!"

"That's the thing, Marko! You're all about power and no strategy! Like the fact all your monster have is just attack points!" Becky slammed her next card into her disk. "Since I control all five Poker Knights, I activate Royal Straight Flush! All cards on your hand and field are destroyed!"

"What!?" Marko's eyes widened as the five knights raised their weapons. They began to glow with light and as one, they brought blades down to launch five slashes through the air. They sliced through the Kra-Corns like they were nothing, Marko's set card shattering apart as well. He stared in horror as the three monsters groaned, crumbling to pieces before they blew apart into dust.

Becky wanted to cheer at the expression his face, but knew it wasn't over yet. _Guys like him at their worst when they're backed into a corner._ "I can't attack during the turn I use Ties of the Brethren, so I set one card face-down and end my turn."

Marko was muttering under his breath at her, but it was Abyssal and Becky didn't grasp a word of it. Judging by how red his eyes were and how many fangs he was bearing at her, she probably did not want to know.

He drew and his face twisted into an ugly grimace. "I activate Graceful Charity."

That was not as good as it sounded. He could draw three cards, but then had to get rid of two of them, leaving only one. And odds were good that one card wasn't going to turn the match around. Becky watched him draw and then she felt a lurch of fear at the twisted delight on his face as he dropped two cards into his graveyard. _Oh I had to jinx it, didn't I?_

"I activate Deja Vu!" Marko couldn't hide his sadistic glee as the three titanic shapes of his Kra-Corns began to appear in the darkness. "Now our fields reset to how they were last turn!"

Light flooded the playing field and when it cleared, Marko's three Kra-Corn were back, looking no worse for the wear. "Of course, I don't get my hand back and the spell and trap cards don't come back either, but all of your monsters go back to your hand and your deck because that's where they were the last turn! You're defenseless!"

He paused as he realized there _was_ a monster on Becky's field. It was wearing heavy armor of purple, red and gold with a fur-lined cape fluttering in the breeze and it was giving Marko an angry glare. "Just what is that doing there?!"

"When you activated Deja Vu, I chained my Fast Chant card! I discard a spell card and Fast Chant activates it! So I used Polymerization to fuse all five of my knights into Imperial Lord High-Roller!" Becky was trying hard not to look too smug. At the sound of his name, the knight drew his massive broadsword and readied for combat (4500/3800).

"But that doesn't mean jack shit!" Marko was practically spitting. "Deja Vu would have put him back into your Extra Deck!"

"High-Roller is unaffected by the effects of spell cards!" Becky corrected, before rolling her eyes. "Just as well too - whichever bright spark at I2 invented Deja Vu deserves to be fired. That card is _so_ broken…"

Marko snarled so hard his teeth bit his lip open. "Who cares? Your tinman's still got less attack points than my monsters! Kra-Corn! _Corn Harvest!_ "

The tentacles all snapped towards High-Roller, but Becky slammed a card into her graveyard. "By discarding a card, High-Roller can negate the effect of all cards of that type! So I can discard King's Knight and all of your monster effects are negated!"(1000/2500 x3)

"You stupid bitch…!" Marko could only stare as High-Roller slashed apart the attacking tentacles with blinding speed and jumped into the air. The fusion monster's weapon slashed through the offending Kra-Corn like it was soft cheese. It thrashed about in pain as it began to fall apart and then blew into pixels.

 **Becky:** 2200

 **Marko:** 2800

"If I'm so stupid, why am I winning?" Becky smiled sweetly at his angry snarl of annoyance and reached for her deck. "Since you don't have anymore cards to play, I'm guessing it's my turn. Draw!"

She snapped up the card, grimacing at the sight of De-Fusion. _I can't use this on High-Roller and pull off my Royal Straight Flush again. And the effect negation only works until the end phase. And I'm out of monsters to discard._

Her disappointment must have shown on her face, because Marko was laughing again. "You thought you were winning, Shadowchaser? Even with only two Kra-Corn, their effects mean they both still have five thousand points! More than your monster!"

"Don't underestimate me, Marko." Becky slid a card into her disk. "I set one card face-down and end my turn."

Mark drew. "Giant Kra-Corn, attack! _Corn Harvest!_ "

Becky braced herself as the High-Roller was bombarded by tentacles again, this time unable to slash them apart and they ripped him apart limb from limb. _I'm sorry…_ "When High-Roller leaves the field, I can summon Arcana Knight Joker from my Extra Deck as a fusion summon!"

 **Becky:** 1700

 **Marko:** 2800

Marko spat furiously as the new fusion knight appeared, this one looking like a younger version of High-Roller, but with more purple appeared crouching behind his shield (3800/2500). "So fucking what? _Corn Harvest!"_

The tentacles pounded Joker Knight, the fusion's armor rending and crumpling under the force like it was tinfoil. There was a disgusting crunching noise from him and blood spurted out of one of the cracks before he shattered. "You're done for, Shadowchaser! Even your best monsters can't beat me!"

"We'll just see about that!" Becky snapped up her next card and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "I activate Monster Reborn and revive Queen's Paladin." In a flash of light, the heart-themed knight reappeared. "And I'll use her effect to add King's Paladin back to my hand."

She grabbed another card. "Then I activate Junk Dealer, reviving both High-Roller and Arcana Joker Knight! But their attack points are halved!" The knights re-appeared along either side of Queen's Paladin, their armor dented and capes tattered. But they readied their damaged swords all the same. (2250/3800) (1900/2500)

"Oh dear, did I make them mad? I'll be glad to slaughter them again and make sure they stay dead this time!" Marko sneered, but it faltered at the look on Becky's face.

"You forget what my High-Roller does?" Becky held up King's Paladin and waggled it. "When I discard a monster card?"

"But - shit!" Marko could only stare at his two Kra-Corns sagged, their effects negated as Becky dropped her monster into the graveyard. "So...so what? You can't attack with monsters revived by Junk Dealer! I'll still have life points!"

"That's why I have Brave Attack!" Becky slammed the card into her disk, metal ringing as her knights crossed their their swords together. "Queen's Paladin gains the attack of my two fusions!" (6350/1600)

"No…" Marko said in disbelief as the Queen's Paladin's blade began to shine. "No!"

"I'd _love_ to stay and draw this out," Becky quoted back to him. "Believe me. But I'm not a despicable creep like you, and you are _so_ not worth a second more of my energy! So Queen's Paladin, do me a favour and end this! _Sword of Hearts Slash!_ "

The blonde knight shot across the field, a single glowing strike from her blade shearing through the mass of one of the Kra-Corns as it gurgled in stupefied surprise and pain.

Then it exploded violently and Becky shielded her face as it kicked up dust and darkness over them both. Above the noise, she heard the distinctive noise of a life point counter hitting zero and let out a quiet sigh of relief.

 **Becky:** 1700

 **Marko:** 0

She lowered her arms as the dueling field faded away, watching Marko stagger a step and then collapse to his hands and knees as he struggled for breath. _Guess the overflow damage hurts demons like it does humans…_

Around them both, the Shadows were stirring again. Becky could feel them seeping across the field, tickling hopefully at Marko's prone form. The rush of energy and recklessness was draining from her blood, and without it her body began to shake.

Red hot pain slashed into her side, the force of the blow spinning her off balance and sending her crashing into the dirt. Blood ran warm and thick over her fingers. Across the field, Marko knelt upright, his own blood clenched in his right fist, ready to throw it again if she showed any signs of getting back up.

 _Son of a bitch!_ Becky pressed harder into the wound as she tried to regain her wits. In her one second of weakness, Marko had taken the upper hand back, and was now getting to his own feet, crimson droplets splashing into the dust.

"I told you I would be your end, Shadowchaser!" Marko seemed to loom over her, flexing his nails over his cut palm as more blood squeezed between his fingers for a second throw. "You didn't win shit!"

Her hands were shaking and her breath was starting to come in gasps. Blood was spreading in a large circle through her dress, and as she tried to turn over, she felt the open wound pull and move in ways it was not supposed to, turning her stomach over in her mouth.

 _Cheater…_

The voice was a thousand angry hisses that seemed to prickle up her skin. Marko's eyes widened, darting around for this new assailant as tendrils pulled free from the darkness, looping around his arms and legs. The blood he was spilling was sucked up by their glossy black surface and he struggled against the impossible grip. "The fuck…!"

 _Cheater. Cheater. Cheater._

Pressure was building up Becky's neck and through the back of her head. She dared not breathe as she watched the shadows slip around Marko in a crude parody of an embrace. All of her mentors in Backwater had warned her over and over again that if you were in a Shadow Game, you played by the rules because the darkness played no favorites. But it was one thing to hear about it second-hand, another to watch as it tried to devour someone.

 _I can't let him die - I need him alive._ The thought stirred Becky to move, but her legs were shaking and her head swam when she tried to rise. It was like the shadows had leached into her body and were weighing her down.

 _He cheated, little Shadowchaser._ The shadows no longer seemed to caress her mind, but lashed at it like angry snakes. _Look at what he's done to you._

Something flashed like a lightning strike across the field and a sound like a knife being pulled through fabric ripped through the darkness. Marko had wrenched his bloodied hand free and clawed at the thick air. It rent like flesh, the five wounds screaming like it was alive and unleashing a burst of hellish heat and brimstone that left Becky coughing in pain. She'd been around Tsuki enough to know what that was - a portal to Hell.

The shadows screamed, rippling and surging in fury. Becky felt the rage slash across her head like a set of claws through her brain. Lightning began to bounce around the thick purple mist, magic filling the area until it was so thick she could practically taste it. Marko was twisting, wrestling the shadows in a desperate attempt to reach his escape route. The darkness clawed at the portal, trying to smother it, seal it, deny it it's prize.

 _Everyone gets their penalty!_

Marko was roaring. The portal howled. The shadows screamed right back.

Head fit to bursting, Becky clamped both hands over her ears as the pressure finally snapped and burst into oblivion around her.

OOO

Bastien had been a Shadowchaser for seven years, so he had witnessed and taken part in his fair share of Shadow Games. But he could honestly say that he had never seen one explode before.

The bubble burst like a giant balloon with a thunderclap that Bastien could feel in his chest. A high pitched scream pulsed through the air, followed by a sucking absence of sound that made his ears pop. Tongues of dark energy raced across the dusty ground, ripping through the flimsy shacks and leaving deep black scorch marks in the dirt. Dust billowed into the air as the structures collapsed, and the magic vanished into wisps on the wind.

From his shelter behind a small stack of breezeblocks, Bastien peered cautiously out.

The bubble was gone, with only a smoking charred hole in the ground to mark where it had been. The seals that he had spent the last fifteen minutes constructing around the Shadow Game to contain Marko had been obliterated, blasted clean out of the dirt. The bodies of the dead fighters that had lain strewn around the courtyard had been tossed through the air and now lay like ragdolls on the burning remains of the shacks. The back wall of the bar was littered by a sparkling carpet of broken glass – the blast had shattered every window in the building. And all through the neighbourhood, the smell of magic permeated the air.

In the middle of ground zero, both duellists lay in the dirt, unconscious and barely moving. Becky was nearest, and Bastien scrambled over his tiny hiding place and hurried to her side.

 _If she's dead, it will be your fault,_ a nasty part of his brain whispered. The thought made him go cold inside.

 _I'm not losing another one._

He crashed to his knees, kicking up another cloud of dust as he went. She was curled over defensively, her skin littered with burn streaks where the magic had seared over her. The dirt beneath her was dark, and Bastien felt sick as he realised that she was bleeding from one side. One hand felt for a pulse, while the other turned her duel disk over. A tidal wave of relief went through him as he simultaneously found a pulse, and read the life point count still flashing seventeen hundred on the machine.

 _Thank God._

As if to validate his findings, Becky twitched and groaned as she tried to turn her head away from whatever it was that had disturbed her daze. Bastien had never been more relieved in his life.

"Wakey wakey princess," he shook her shoulder gently as he rolled her over onto her back. She had a deep gash in her side, and blood was still oozing into her dress. "I need to check you're alright."

"Princess?" Becky's voice was a little dazed, but she managed to blink her eyes open. "Since when have I been royalty?"

"I dunno - your grandmother has a pretty regal look about her," relief was making Bastien feel a little giddy. "Stay still - you're bleeding." He had a few gauze dressings on him all the time, and he pressed two of them into the wound now, causing his patient to whine in complaint. "So glad you're okay."

"…because you were afraid you'd have to break the news to Nana?" Becky asked.

"Bloody terrified." He said with all due seriousness. Now that Becky was awake and talking, he was starting to feel a little hysterical with relief.

A sick squelch of flesh being torn broke through the night, followed by a roar of agony that made both Shadowchasers jump. In all his worry about Becky, Bastien had almost forgotten that Marko was still there.

But the small group of girls, who had taken cover when the fight had started, had not forgotten. Six of them, including Fatima, were standing over the gang leader, stabbing at his body with all the might their skinny bodies could give. They had no knives – instead they had armed themselves with sticks and pieces of wood, sharpened to a fine point at one end and now dripping red as they plunged them over and over into his chest, arms and legs. Their clothing was faded and torn, some of them were barefoot, and all of them were decorated with bruises or scabs, but their faces were anything but beaten – indeed as the initial frenzy faded, and they stepped back to survey the damage they had done, they wore looks of beautiful awe, at the realisation that after so many years, they suddenly held power.

Bastien made to rise, but Becky seized him by the arm and halted his ascent.

"No," she was shaking as she tried to pull him back down, but her voice possessed a strange determination. "Everyone gets a penalty…"

Bastien wanted to argue that this was not a penalty – this was all out slaughter. But then he remembered the way Fatima had begged for help. The way Neo had thrown her down into his truck like she was nothing. He remembered how the girls had looked when he had finally barged his way through the bar and into the back courtyard – afraid, ducking into cover and cowering with each other, some of them still half dressed or bleeding.

 _You're supposed to be arresting Marko, not watching him get murdered,_ the voice in the back of his head spoke up again.

It did not matter. He already knew that he was not going to stop them now.

Fatima was standing over her captor now, her eyes wide and desperate. Blood had splattered all over her hands and up her arm, and was now trickling slowly onto the ground. "Where is it?"

The demon had curled up, as the pain from his injuries became more and more overwhelming. Blood had flowed down his shirt and over his arms in rivers. Bastien did not give him long before he bled out. He did not even seem to register that Fatima had spoken, until she threaded her fingers into his hair and yanked him upright to look at her. His growl was a gurgle, which spilled a line of blood between his lips.

"Where is my cloak, Marko? Tell me!"

Her shriek, fierce and desperate, bounced off the empty walls of the courtyard. The other girls joined in, their own threats filled with malice. Now Marko was engaged, the pain in his eyes clearing before twisting into narrow slits full of perverse delight.

"You dumb bitch." His chuckle was raspy, flecks of blood staining his lips and teeth. "What? You thought I had a secret cupboard full of treasures, and you'd find your cloak with them? Please! Fucking thing is worthless - just like its owner."

"Don't fuck with them, Marko," now it was Bastien's turn, and he was far less gentle about it than Fatima had been, choosing instead to haul him upright by the ends of his wings. He could not remember hating someone more than he hated the demon in this moment. "Where is her cloak?"

"Down the back of the sofa for all I know!" the demon spat, his struggles feeble against Bastien's grip. "I told you, I don't keep track of garbage!"

He snarled as one of the half-elves punched him hard in one of the open stab wounds.

"Want me to take his eye out, Fati?" one of the older looking fae raised her stick and eyed the pointy end thoughtfully. But Fatima did not seem to hear. She was staring at Marko, hopeless and desperate as he continued to chuckle.

Bastien knew that look – it was the one you wore when you had just lost everything.

"You can't take my eye out, or any other part of me," he taunted with a wicked smirk. "He won't let you," he jerked his head back where Bastien was still holding his wings. "I'm his prisoner now. He's going to arrest me – slap me into jail where I belong."

His words were dripping with scorn. Prison was no threat to him, Bastien realised. He had probably expected that he would wind up in jail at some point in his life. He might even have contingency plans already put in place for such an eventuality – he did have a demon for a father after all.

Bastien saw Fatima, looking too lost to even cry, and Becky, watching from the ground through the pain in her side with the deepest loathing on her face. The other girls watched, their own faces reproachful as they stared back at him, blood still dripping from their weapons. One of them had a ragged scar down her cheek. Another had lash marks across the back of her legs. One of them did not look older than twelve.

His fingers tightened around the demon's wings.

"You're wrong, Marko. You're not my prisoner."

He released his hold, and let the demon fall to the ground, his face twisted in confusion as he tried to decipher the meaning behind the Shadowchaser's words.

"…you're _theirs_ ," Bastien declared, inclining his head towards the girls. Several of them smirked cruelly, and the oldest gave Bastien a nod of thanks.

"What?" the confusion vanished, with naked fear in its place, as his victims pounced again, a flurry of hands tearing into his body and ripping him apart. The demon's screams turned into a gurgle of blood as one stick plunged into his throat, and his body arched as another sank into the soft eyeball and punctured through his skull and into his brain.

The only one who did not join in was Fatima. There was no pleasure in her eyes, nor relief at the sight of her friends taking their revenge. Instead she watched with blank detachment, as the scorched earth turned red, watered with the blood of the man who had enslaved her.

OOO

Jaw cracking, Serena Van Kaan rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, blinking in astonishment as she realised that the blackness failed to shift from her vision. Glancing back to the laptop screen, she groaned. It was nearly three am, and her 'bedtime' reading had morphed into four hours of fruitless investigation. She had window after window of internet searches and PDFs of research papers and academic journals, but no answers to show for it.

Closing the screen, she sat up from her reclining position on the bench. The leather cushions gripped her shoulders and thighs with sweat, and she rolled the knot in her shoulder before stretching tall. The tips of her fingers brushed the mess ceiling before she relaxed and headed for the door. From the stairs leading below deck, she could hear the soft wheezing breaths of her mother in slumber (the woman denied that she snored, but Serena knew better). Jacob, her research assistant, had left earlier preferring to spend his evenings ashore. They were alone in the bay.

Well...almost alone, Serena thought fondly. As she stepped onto the deck, she could hear the faint hum of humpback song. This part of the bay was sheltered and full of fish, making it popular with the pod. Koka had been desperately lonely and dispirited as the hours had ticked by revealing no sign of his mother, so they had anchored up not far from the humpbacks so that the baby could have some company to keep while she and her own mother slept.

It was too dark to make out the shapes of the whales beneath the water. Stars twinkled down on the waves like tiny shards of glass on black velvet. Letting her hand drift over the side rail, Serena walked carefully down the port side of the Sunspear toward the bow. Cape Town lined the horizon, dark shapes protruding from the waterline, the streetlights casting an eerie golden haze over the city.

Slipping through the doorway into the bridge, Serena made a quick check of the sonar and other instruments that surrounded the helm. There were no other ships nearby, and the radio was silent. Maritime laws required them to keep their communication equipment online at all times, and each room contained a speaker so they could always hear anyone in distress. For tonight however, it seemed perfectly calm and quiet.

 _Good_ , the half nymph thought to herself. _We deserve some calm and quiet_...No day was normal on the sea, but today had been emotionally exhausting. She was still rattled after her early morning call-out to Simon's Town, and caring for an infant dragon turtle was more draining than babysitting her best friend's human toddler. Hopefully the next few days would pass without incident and she could have a relaxing weekend. Her cheeks pinkened as she remembered her earlier proposition to Bastien. There was a nice thought to get her to sleep…

Letting herself smile, she turned on her heel and headed for the door, giving the equipment one last fond pat as she walked out.

She stopped, her gaze pulled magnetically back to the sonar. Where before there had been a small cluster of fuzzy white bodies at the edge of the circular dial, there was now blackness. The line swung round hopefully, but remained silent.

The humpbacks were gone.

Serena frowned. Humpbacks could dive deep, but not deep enough to escape her equipment. They must have moved on...fast.

Ducking through the door, the marine biologist hurried to the bow, squinting north east along the coastline. It was impossible to see through the dark, and the light swell could easily disguise the moving bodies. Concern began to beat through her body, and she pulled open one of the supply chests. Rummaging through it, she pulled out a small box with two wires wrapped around it, one attached to a microphone, and one to a set of headphones. Kneeling on the deck, she unwrapped the wires and dangled the microphone over the edge of the boat, watching it drop into the sea with a plop that crackled through her headphones. The noise was instantly replaced with the low hum of the ocean.

There! Even if you couldn't speak whale, humpback cries were unmistakable, and sound always travelled better in water. Her heart thudded as the low wails filtered down the microphone to her ears.

 _Swim away! Swim away!_

Her body went cold. The sea twinkled back at her, the bright glow of magic illuminating her terrified face in the water.

With a shriek of alarm she flung herself away across the deck. The headphones yanked taut and snapped off her head as the intruder pounced on the space she had been laying. Water bubbled over the deck and burst instantly, gushing over the edge in a rush. The attacker straightened, seaweed swaying in the breeze as she turned to stare at her with dead eyes.

Serena's scream died in her throat as the woman advanced again, magic flaring in her right hand like a miniature sun. She could only see her eyes through the matted weeds, but the expression was repellent, and woke a deep primal fear inside her. She scrambled back, yelping as she hit her head against the safety rail. From the discarded radio, the whale cries continued to scream, begging her to run.

She jumped to her feet, and screamed as small nails and teeth dug into her ankles and shins, causing her to buckle back to the deck. More of them scratched up her body and tore their way through her shirt, drawing blood with menacing giggles of delight. Her stomach turned as she recognised the hairy bodies and the flashes of sharp teeth as they dug into her arms and up her neck.

There was a squelch, followed by a shriek of metal on bone, and the witch screamed, a high pitched terrifying noise that caused every hair on Serena's arms to stand on end. Her mother stood behind her attacker, her fish knife plunged deep into her spine. The tokoloshe scrambled for their mistress as the blade was pulled free of her back, leaving blood to gush over the deck.

 _Not blood,_ Serena realised. _Water._

The fiery glow of magic was snuffed out instantly as the witch twisted out of the nymph's grasp, before flinging herself over the edge of the safety rail. She hit the water with a splash and vanished into the depths, the tokoloshe flinging themselves after her. Soon nothing was left but a cluster of ripples spreading out where they had escaped.

Gripping the railing with sweaty hands, Serena tried to stand. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she sat back on the deck with a shaky bump, water oozing through her shorts and into the gashes left by the tokoloshe.

Still panting, her mother sank down next to her and wrapped her arms tightly around her. It took Serena a moment to realise that she was shaking too.

"Are you hurt? Serena! Are you hurt?" her voice sharpened as her daughter started to sob. Two hands cupped Serena's face and wiped the hot tears away. That gaze could kill humans, but it only offered stability to her rattled nerves. She shook her head.

"Come on," her mother was brisk, pulling her upright and leaning her against the rail as she sheathed her knife again. "We'd better get ashore. Time to have a meeting with those Shadowchasers."


	8. Favours

**Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 8: Favours**

The spare room in the Shadowchaser's home was pretty spartan, but that had been the least of Becky's concerns when she finally curled up in the bed at three am. A dull ache in her side roused her five hours later, very much against her will. She tried to ignore it, but anxiety was a nagging mistress, and she submitted to it reluctantly, rolling carefully over to grab her phone from the bedside table. Someone had drawn the curtains against the watery sunlight, and a steaming mug sat by the bedside lamp, with a post-it note saying "drink me!" on the side. Her shoes and duel disk had been abandoned on the floor, and now sat neatly on a nearby chair. She still wore her dress, but one side was caked in blood. Her injured side felt stiff and sore.

She had slept through two messages, both from Marina, and she could not suppress the shudder of nerves that went through her as she opened them. She need not have worried though - the first one said simply that her grandmother was out of theatre and it had all gone well. The second contained the update that she had woken up and was asking after her. A huge heavy sense of dread lifted off her immediately and she pressed her face back into the pillows with a sigh. That was a big item off her slowly growing list of worries.

The next worry was sitting innocuously on top of her duel disk – her calling card. The malevolence had vanished from it, and it lay inert and innocent looking. She knew that it was anything but and she repressed another shudder. She had never called a Shadow Game herself before, and it was not an experience she was keen to repeat. The energy that had been required alone had been draining, but it was the way that the shadows had slithered over her, whispering in her ear to set terms, teasing her with the possibilities that she could inflict upon her opponent. It had been seductive and all too frightening. She wondered where Marko was now, and what Fatima and the other girls had done to him - how long did it take to pay someone back for decades of slavery, beatings and rape?

 _Not long enough_ , her brain supplied viciously.

They had left Nyanga the night before with the girls in Vuyo's capable hands. The Incantifer was better rested, and most importantly, had contacts in the city who provided support for Shadowkind in times of need. She would make sure that they had all the help that they needed, and would deter any of Marko's rivals who might be looking to pick up the pieces. It saddened Becky to think that another would simply fill the void left by the gang, but you could not stop violence really – only push it back for a while. She had once heard Jalal say that justice was not one victory but an endless fight.

Speaking of her boss, she was probably in a lot of trouble. Carefully she slid out from under the sheets and got to her feet. That proved to be a mistake. Not only did her side protest at being moved, but her head reeled as though she had not eaten in days, and she dropped straight back onto the mattress with a thump. Pressing one hand into her side, she felt the thick pad of gauze that she vaguely remembered was covering a handful of stitches.

"Oh hooray - now I'll match," she muttered sarcastically to herself.

"Match what?" The unexpected answer came from Bastien, who was pushing the door open tentatively. She pulled a face.

"The scars on my other side," she explained. Bastien laughed, and let himself in all the way. He'd clearly just rolled out of bed too – his hair was sticking up adorably on one side, and he seemed to have put his pyjama pants on inside out.

"Well aesthetically pleasing scars aside, Vuyo said you can have another healing potion after you've eaten. She also stabbed you with a few antiretrovirals while she was sewing you up, but it's just a precaution. Since Marko was half demon we're pretty sure he wasn't carrying anything nasty."

Becky's heart raced and calmed again in an instant - she hadn't even considered the possibility of bloodborne contamination, and she was immensely relieved that Vuyo had.

"In the meantime she said you should drink that before you go anywhere," Bastien indicated to the mug on the bedside table. "It'll boost your energy and detox your system after last night. That Shadow Game looked like it ran you over."

He glanced over at her duel disk, and she found her own eyes follow it, a wave of discomfort surging forward as she saw the way he looked at her card.

"About the card-"

He held up a hand. "Relax. Jalal and Rayearth gave me the rundown." He said it simply, in a way that made her sure that she did not have to add any further explanation. His expression was also serious. "I won't pretend that I'm comfortable with the idea – we usually arrest people for calling Shadow Games – but I can't deny it worked well at keeping Marko contained. Am I right in thinking it's only good for one use?"

He inclined his head towards the card, and she nodded.

"Yeah, the magic is gone so I can't use it again. And we're only allowed one at a time." Needing something to do with her hands, she took the mug from the table. It was still hot (probably magic) and the smell of herbs made her eyes water.

"Good – then I've got nothing to worry about," Bastien concluded, crossing the room and parking himself on the end of the bed, his manner a little more upbeat now. "Just as well – I like you too much to do a decent job of arresting you."

"So I'm not in trouble?" she checked. The mug felt very heavy in her hands, as she tried to curb her anxiety.

"Not as much trouble as I'm in for roping you into danger when you're supposed to be on holiday," Bastien's efforts to lighten the tone were somewhat ruined by him shuddering. "Rayearth is terrifying, even in hologram. If Jalal hadn't been in the conversation too I probably would have hid behind the sofa."

Relieved, Becky allowed herself to smile, silently pleased that even on the other side of the world her former teammates still cared enough to ask after her wellbeing. "And we're not in trouble for letting the girls have Marko instead of arresting him?"

"I believe Jalal said, and I quote, _'ensuring a colleague's safety after a Shadow Game should always take priority over making an arrest'_." The accent was atrocious, but the knowing tone of voice was unmistakable in Bastien's imitation. Jalal was an understanding boss after all. Some more of the weight lifted from Becky's heart and she sighed in relief.

"Don't worry about it," her colleague's hand squeezed her shoulder. "We might not have been able to make him stand trial, but we've got more than enough to shut down most of his operation without him. A few of the girls were able to point us in the direction of Marko's other bolt holes in the city. We've sprung a few more people who were being held against their will, and we found a lot of nice little caches of money, drugs and stolen goods. Vuyo's been moving it all to HQ for them to catalogue." He grinned. "So much easier when she can just wave her pipe and make it all vanish half way round the world – no messing with shipping or worrying that it might explode."

"Did you find Fatima's cloak?" she asked, remembering Marko's words from the night before. The hope fizzled out as Bastien's cheerfulness waned again, and he shook his head sadly.

"No sign of it. Poor girl is a mess," he sighed heavily. "Since she can't go back to the sea, I asked if she wanted to stay here for now, but…I don't think she really knows what she wants. Vu's heading back to the support clinic later this morning - she'll keep an eye on her."

It was not particularly reassuring, but Becky knew that there was not much more that they could do. As a sangoma, Vuyo probably had the necessary skills and experience that the girls would need now – she was the best person to watch over them.

"Did she and Thando have any luck with the witch after we left the club?" she asked. The third point of concern on her mental checklist was no less valid than the first two, particularly now that she had witnessed a kidnapping in person. The memory of those bubbles springing to life around the clubbers and bursting into nothing was particularly chilling.

Bastien pulled a face that was bordering on helpless. "No joy. They tracked the magic back through the pipelines – Vuyo thinks she might be using the plumbing as a way of getting around – but all traces of it just end up back in the ocean."

He nodded in the direction of the door, which Becky knew that to be the direction of the beach. Her heart sank.

"So no new leads?"

Her colleague shook his head. "HQ have no record of any sort of Shadowkind operating like this, and Vuyo's ruled out all the Incantifers she knows. Unless we have a breakthrough, or someone else has an epiphany about some kind of obscure creature that likes to kidnap magical beings, then we're still stuck."

It was a hard pill to swallow. Becky had got used to being in a community where someone somewhere had the answer you needed. Their world was one of magic – there was little they _hadn't_ seen before.

It was pretty clear that their helplessness was not lost on her friend. He sounded so dispirited that Becky felt the urge to wrap her arms around him and give him a hug. Instead she sipped her tea and gagged as her eyes immediately began to stream. It worked as a tension breaker though, and Bastien laughed.

"The English girl is defeated by tea? Would never have dreamed it."

"That's not tea – it's a hippie's bathwater!" Becky proclaimed, pouting when she only got more chuckling in place of sympathy. "Speaking of bathwater, can I use your shower? Nana's out of surgery and asking for me."

Any trace of concern about the poor state of their investigation was wiped off Bastien's face completely at the news. "That's good…any chance she's looking for a part time job putting demons in their place? Apparently Veno's still icing his family jewels after last night."

He gave an unrestrained giggle at the thought and this time, Becky joined in. It only mitigated her worries somewhat. Going to visit her grandmother was what she wanted more than anything right now, but it would also put her back within shooting range of her family. She really did not think she had the strength for a fight right now, particularly with Ruan. But after everything her grandmother had done, and particularly the way she had stood up for her last night, she owed it to her to check in and give her an update.

Bastien left with a promise of breakfast if she finished Vuyo's drink first. Pinching her nose as she swallowed, Becky fired off a text, first to Marina informing her that she would be along shortly, and then to Rayearth thanking her for smoothing everything over. At least she was not in trouble for pulling a Shadow Game in the middle of Nyanga. She tried to feel a little bit of pride – for taking down a demon on her first fully fledged mission – but it was difficult knowing how close she'd come to breaking the rules herself to do it. Now that she had come out on the other side, she could see too just how lucky she'd been – if she'd left her card behind in Nebraska as planned, she'd have been pretty screwed.

 _But you didn't, and you weren't._ A voice that sounded a little like her grandmother interjected firmly. _And you'll do better next time. Now go get in that shower and stop dithering._

The shower was a relief – it felt like she had picked up all the dirt in Nyanga and taken it with her. In addition to the five stitches in her side, she had a purplish bruise on her other side where Marko had punched her in the club, and a set on her knuckles from striking the sticky linoleum. The explosion from the Shadow Game had left a few grazes on the back of her legs, but otherwise, she was mostly unhurt. She had certainly come out better than her opponent.

Her clothes were another matter entirely however, and she wondered if she had time to run them through the machine before leaving. Wrapping a few towels strategically around her, she picked up the bundle and left the bathroom. The smell of cooking was wafting up the staircase, provoking an unexpected cramp of hunger and a whine to escape her throat.

"Morning!" Appearing in the nearest doorway, Vuyo smiled as she slipped flip flops onto her feet. She could not have had more than a few hours sleep, but she looked perfectly rested, and alert at the promise of food in the air. "Do I smell boerewors?"

"I think so," Becky nodded, taking another sniff. "I _really_ hope so." Now that she had smelt it she could feel the craving beginning.

"Me too – I haven't had a decent breakfast all week," the Incantifer yanked her braids up and began to wrestle them into a messy bun. "Don't get stuck in Zimbabwean jail, Becky. The food is terrible and the guards are miserable company."

Becky pulled a face – food and socialising would have been the least of her concerns in a country with such an appalling record of human rights violations. "Dare I even ask?"

Vuyo looked pleased with herself. "Probably best not to," she admitted, before switching her smile to something more concerned. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Becky pulled a face. "Better now I know I'm not in trouble. Thanks for putting me back together." She gestured to the bundle of clothing in her arms. "Do you think there's any chance I could wash these before I leave?"

"Say no more," the Incantifer had plucked them out of her arms before she could draw breath. "I'll pop a load on now. Go steal some of Bastien's clothes – he's probably a better fit for you than Thando."

And she trotted off towards the smell of food. Becky decided that she liked Vuyo – she had an earthy practicality to her that was welcome after the madness of the night before. She was not sure how comfortable she felt stealing someone else's clothing, but it was getting cold in her towel, so she scooted across the landing toward the nearest door and hoped that it was the right one.

There was not much to steal, for Bastien did not seem to have much in the way of personal effects. A few shells and what looked like a sea creature preserved in stone sat on his desk, alongside the paperwork that seemed to breed for every Shadowchaser. Books were neatly arranged on the shelf above, but aside from an interest in geology and sci fi, they did not reveal much.

Feeling a shiver run over her shoulders, Becky opened the wardrobe, and found a flannel shirt to borrow. The sleeve was trapped between a battered cardboard box, and the back wall of the storage space. Reaching in, Becky pulled, and yelped as the entire box began to tilt dangerously on one corner. She seized it, but not before a smaller shoebox went sliding off the top and crashed to the floor, spilling a handful of the contents everywhere.

Sighing, Becky tugged the shirt on to free up her hands from the towel, and got to work putting the mess back to rights, all the while telling herself not to look. She was not nosy by any means and she would not start now. Still it was impossible not to gather what the treasures were as she gently placed them one by one back into the box. Geodes, fossils, a duel monsters deck and photographs of a pretty dark-haired woman tied up with string burned their way into her mind regardless. The last thing to go back in was a man's ring, silver and tied to another piece of string. She firmly closed the lid and put it back in the cupboard.

She had known, of course. It was in Bastien's file. But it was hard to picture him as married, let alone widowed. Nonetheless, there was the evidence. She felt weird for touching it - as though she had somehow breathed life back into a part of his history. Gooseflesh was rising over her arms, in spite of the pilfered shirt, and she pushed the doors closed against the past. As she had the night before, she wondered again just what she had thought of Bastien's work.

"Bet you were more composed than my mother," she muttered cynically, with a wince as she realised that she still had to figure out _what_ she was going to tell her mother and the rest of them.

 _Breakfast first,_ the voice that sounded like her grandmother chided. _Plausible lies later._

Stealing a pair of sweatpants to complete the impromptu outfit, she hurried down the stairs. The smell of food was so intense that she felt momentarily lightheaded. The doorbell rang as she reached the bottom of the staircase, and Bastien hurried passed her to get it, a little spring in his step.

"He's in a good mood," she commented as she slid into the kitchen. Thando was making tea, while Vuyo was stuffing boerewors and a fried egg into a sandwich.

"You nailed him the biggest gangster in Cape Town last night – of course he's in a good mood," Thando stated, poking the floating teabags around their mugs. "And since Marko's dead, there's no tedious trial for us to give evidence at. That's one very large item off our to do list."

"So only nine hundred and ninety nine tasks left on it?" Vuyo quipped, adding a layer of ketchup to her sandwich.

"Thanks Vu – your sympathy and support is always appreciated." Thando muttered, pushing a mug towards Becky.

"What happened to your arm?" Flying in the face of her own culture and ignoring her tea, Becky stared instead at the bandage and gauze wrapped around Thando's arm. Beneath his jacket the previous night she had not noticed it.

"Oh, I pounced on a tokoloshe and it bit me," he shrugged. "We've got three of them now – they're in the training room. Vu's going to do lots of neat experiments on them later."

"Make me sound completely psychotic, why don't you?" the incantfier grumbled, squishing her bread together and frowning as egg yolk began to run down the side.

"I hear your evening wasn't a great success?" Becky asked, sitting down and stealing the ketchup for her own sausages.

"Not really," in spite of the topic, Vuyo's voice was unconcerned. "We didn't manage to trace our sea witch, but I wasn't expecting the answer to land on us on the very night I roll up into town. We spent most of the night fending off the police detective – though the absolute highlight of the evening was when Thando slipped in a puddle, landed on his ass, and crushed his phone in his back pocket."

She chortled at the sulky expression working its way onto Thando's face.

"Sorry Ruan was being difficult," Becky's rising spirits had sunk at the mention of her uncle-to-be, and she pushed her boerewors around her plate with a sigh. "I have no idea what I'm going to tell them."

Not for the first time since the previous evening, she cursed Marko and his fat mouth.

"You may not need to tell them anything," Vuyo said, unaware of the sausage slowly sliding for freedom out of the bottom of her sandwich. "I mean they found out you're a Shadowchaser and they know from Ruan what it is you do. What else do they need to know?"

She shook her head. "They don't believe me. They don't believe in magic." Her mother and sister's words replayed in her mind. _Fantasy. Delusion. Insane_. Any thought of defending herself was mercilessly culled by the memory and how much each of those words had hurt.

"So?" Vuyo shrugged. "You're not asking them to believe you. You're just saying _this is what I do – accept it and deal._ If they can't deal then that's really up to them."

"It won't be when my mother has me sectioned," the sneer masked the shudder of terror she felt. She'd been too young to be sectioned as a child when her 'paranoid delusions' of monsters had been causing her sleepless nights and panic attacks. When she had been old enough to understand what sectioning meant, it was a fear that had lingered in her mind every time she felt the panic rear again.

"That wouldn't happen," Thando cut in firmly. "We have procedures in place to deal with that, same way we do when we're arrested."

His voice was level, but there was an edge to it that made Becky wonder if he'd ever had to rely on those procedures himself.

"Plus the rest of your immediate family would have to agree or she'd risk upsetting them," Vuyo added. "What does your father think?"

She had thought she was going to say Andi, and the sudden new angle stalled Becky's brain momentarily. She had not given much thought to her father's reaction – he had not been at the hen party, for obvious reasons. Doubtless someone would have told him by now, but she had not witnessed his response, nor now that she thought about it, could she imagine it.

Trying to engage the rational part of her brain, she spun a piece of sausage around in her egg yolk. Her father was always calm and laid back – someone in the marriage had to be, and her mother spent her entire life verging on panic mode. He was usually logical about a problem, but not a sceptic, Becky thought. Maybe he would believe her? Or at least accept it.

The doubt must have shown on her face, for Vuyo was grinning.

"See? And Marina didn't seem to think you were crazy last night."

"Marina lives with Nana – she's used to crazy," Becky retorted, but the wheels turned in her brain nonetheless. Marina _hadn't_ called her crazy. She'd been angry, but that probably had more to do with the fact that they had all started fighting in the back of an ambulance over her injured mother. She'd been perfectly reasonable up until that point. And hadn't she told Becky before they had left to find Marko to come back once she had had a chance to absorb it? Maybe all she needed was processing time?

"You have more people than you think," Vuyo concluded with a satisfied smile. It turned into a yelp of alarm as her sausage slipped free and splattered into the puddle of ketchup on her plate.

"Still," it felt reassuring, but Becky did not think she was being unduly cynical as the worry continued to simmer. "They won't be enough to sway Mum and Andi. And Ruan is probably thinking of a way to arrest me along with all of you."

"Ruan won't do anything," Thando's reply was instant. "He might be annoying, but he's not stupid. We haven't done anything wrong, and he can't arrest us without good cause. And even if he did, we wouldn't stay in jail long. Jalal can afford the best lawyers in the world – we'd be out before the tokoloshe needed feeding again."

"And your mum and sister will come around," Vuyo said, wiping flecks of ketchup off her shirt. "They must have secrets that they haven't told you. They'll learn to accept it like all families do."

From the back of her mind, Becky remembered how her mother had tried to conceal her own bouts of anxiety throughout her teen years, and the way her sister was avoiding the subject of her new boyfriend. Even families had some secrets. Maybe this would eventually just be another one?

"Did your family accept the secrecy?" she asked. Still mopping up ketchup, Vuyo's lips quirked into a smile.

"Less of the past tense, thank you. I'm only twenty six - my family are still alive and kicking, and fine with my odd career choices." The astonishment was definitely showing on Becky's face now, for the Incantifer continued with an impatient huff. "We can't all be cashing our pension cheques like Maskent and Rayearth."

She punctuated her statement by tossing the ketchup splattered napkin into the bin. The image of Rayearth queuing up at social security was so incongruous that Becky found herself giggling. No sooner had she managed to get them under control, when Bastien appeared in the door.

"Visitors. I think you guys should come listen to this. Thando, pour two more teas - strong."

His voice was serious and had none of the good humour that it had possessed earlier. The smile wiped off Becky's face immediately, and she grabbed her own drink as she followed him into the living room. Thando moved like lightning, pouring more hot water into two fresh mugs and dropping tea bags into them before Becky had even reached the door. Vuyo meanwhile, picked up her sandwich and brought it with her.

The atmosphere in the lounge was dark and fright tingled in the air. Serena Van Kaan sat on the sofa, pale and chewing anxiously on a thumb nail. Not breaking her stride, Becky marched over to the sofa and immediately put one arm around the woman - it was clear to all that she needed a proper hug.

"Are you okay?" Not removing her face from her shoulder, Serena's head shook slowly.

"What did we miss?" Vuyo asked briskly, plonking herself into an armchair and taking another bite of sandwich before the egg yolk could dribble onto her lap. Behind her, a tall, slender figure hovered against the wall, her angry expression doing nothing to diminish her beauty. That had to be Serena's mother. Even with celebrity-sized sunglasses to hide her gaze she was still the most gorgeous person in the room, and Becky felt her self esteem take a hit as she remembered that she was wearing borrowed clothes.

Thando appeared with tea, and Serena shakily began to retell the story. By the time she was done the tea was gone, and Vuyo was pouring her something stronger (the sandwich long forgotten). She had already bandaged the bites and scratches that the tokoloshe had left behind.

"Well that answers that," Becky said. "The tokoloshe _do_ belong to our witch."

"This wasn't a kidnapping though," Bastien declared.

"Glowing hands? Using water as a conduit? Matches your descriptions from last night in the club," Thando pointed out.

"It was more than just a kidnapping," Bastien argued. "This was an assault. She's never shed blood first – she doesn't need to."

It was true – they had witnessed the effectiveness of the witch's magic the night before. Why make your victim bleed first when you could trap them in a bubble from which there was no escape with ease? The thought of being attacked by one tokoloshe was enough to make Becky uneasy. Just entertaining the image of being jumped by a swarm of them send a primal chill down her spine. It was the stuff of childhood nightmares.

"Sounds more personal," trying to focus properly, she glanced at Serena. "You haven't upset anyone recently, have you?"

Still grey in the face, Serena shook her head slowly. She was still shaking, and Becky squeezed her hand. The half-nymph's fingers were cold.

"Human in appearance," Vuyo was muttering as she scribbled notes into a tiny book. "Concealed in seaweed, conjuring magic from her hands-"

"Bleeds water," Becky added, remembering that particular detail from Serena's retelling.

"She wasn't conjuring from her hands," Akeila interjected. She had accepted a joint from Vuyo in lieu of a calming drink, and was positioned with one arm outside the window so as not to let smoke in the house. "I got a look when I snuck up behind her. She was definitely holding something."

"Some kind of conduit?" the incantifer's eyes lit up. "Fascinating. Did you get a look at what it was?"

The nymph shook her head. "She was clenching it pretty tight. And I was more worried about where I should shove the knife, frankly."

Serena hiccupped. Becky did not blame her. If her mother had not woken up, who knew what might have happened to her?

"Hmm..." Vuyo tapped her chin with her pen thoughtfully.

"Ideas, Vu?" Thando asked hopefully. He clearly knew that expression for what it really was. The incantifer's gaze had gone distant in thought.

"What did we do?" Serena whispered. Becky felt a shudder run beneath her hands. "Why did she come after us? We haven't done anything."

"You probably didn't need to do anything," she said patiently. "She's been going after Shadowkind – everyone is a target. It's not just you."

But that was not really true. Something about Serena and her mother had made her change her methods. Whatever her reasons were, they were different – more personal, to use her earlier words – for this half nymph and her mother.

"I'm going to check the weather," Vuyo announced, jumping up from her seat and hurrying out into the hallway. Watching her go, Becky frowned, sensing that there was something that she was missing.

"She's going to smoke," Thando filled in. "It helps her think."

"Hmph – well since I'm off the wagon again I might as well join her for another," Akeila stated, tossing the scant remains of her joint out of the window before it could burn her fingers. Serena watched anxiously as her mother followed the Incantifer out of the door, clearly terrified that something might happen while she was out of sight. They were obviously very close. Becky thought of her own mother, wishing things could be that harmonious, and remembered that she had promised Marina she would be at the hospital soon.

"What do we do?" Serena asked. She sounded terribly lost. "We escaped her this time, but will she come after us again?"

"I don't know," Bastien was leaning over the back of the sofa, his expression pensive. "But land is no safer than the ocean at the moment – she's operating on both. I'd say go back to the boat and try to get some sleep. Thando and I can come down with you and put some spells up to keep you safe."

They would not work. Becky knew that the spells on the Oracle the previous night had been far more advanced than anything they could put on Serena's boat. But if it helped her get some rest, it was probably worth trying. Serena's alarm at the prospect of going back out on the ocean seemed to be tempered somewhat by the promise of protection. She chewed her lip.

"I do need to check on the whales," she admitted. "Find out where they ran to after last night. And Koka-"

She was interrupted by a solid set of knocks on the front door. Serena jumped so hard that she almost upset her tea in Becky's lap, and beneath her hand, she could feel her pulse leaping into top gear. Thando crossed the room and pressed his face to the glass, but there was not enough angle for him to get a good look at the front step. Bastien glanced her way, and Becky knew he was feeling the same thing – the prickle that had gone down both their spines. Whoever their visitor was, they were powerful.

"Stay here," Bastien insisted. His sword was propped by the doorway, and he seized it before moving into the hall. Ignoring him completely, Becky jumped to follow him. The only thing that stopped her racing upstairs to get her own weapon was how quickly her friend moved to the front door. He peered through the peephole, and Becky could see the skin around his eyes wrinkle in confusion as he frowned and opened it fully.

The man on the doorstep wore the loose woven clothes of a sangoma, decorated with wooden beads and feathers. Scars crisscrossed his arms, and a knot of them crept up from beneath the tunic to ensnare his neck. His dark eyes scowled at Bastien's presence.

"...can I help you?" the Shadowchaser asked, a little cautiously. Becky did not blame him. Magic was radiating off the man in a furious wave, and the glare he wore could have stripped flesh from bone. He thrust a woven wriggling sack in Bastien's arms.

"I gave you one job, Shadowchaser!" the visitor snapped. " _Keep them off my mountain_ \- how hard is that?!"

As Bastien scrambled to grasp the sack, Becky felt her jaw drop in astonishment as she finally placed the aura and the voice. Her friend was only a second behind her, his eyes widening in astonishment.

"Xicerine?"

"...no, it's the milkman," came the sarcastic reply. "Do you greet all your guests this way?"

"Sorry," inside the sack the tokoloshe jabbed him in the stomach, and Bastien held it at arms length. Becky hurried forward to take it off him. "I didn't realise you could…" He gestured with his free hand to Xicerine's current form. The roc folded his arms and rolled his eyes.

"What did you expect me to do - land on your roof?" he sneered. "Believe me, being in this form makes me physically ill, but I got sick of waiting for you to answer my summons."

Becky was confused – what kind of summons did he send them? He did not seem the kind to use a telephone. Bastien on the other hand whirled and peered back into the lounge and groaned. Over his shoulder she followed his gaze to the corner of the room, where unnoticed by any of them, three large brown feathers had collected on top of the stereo. They had been so preoccupied with Serena and her mother that they had completely failed to notice them.

"It's been a very busy morning," Bastien muttered by way of an apology. The roc rolled his eyes. It clearly wasn't long enough to warrant ignoring him. Becky felt irritation flare in the back of her head. Across the street, Vuyo and Akeila sat smoking and whispering to each other, clearly intrigued by the visitor.

"Just keep them away," he scowled. "I have better things to do with my time."

"As amazing as this may sound," Becky declared. "So do we. That's no reason to be rude."

That piercing glare turned to her, but she held it, feeling strangely empowered. Maybe it was because he seemed less intimidating in human form, or maybe she was just reaching her breaking point, but she wasn't going to stand there and listen to him whine about how inconvenient his life was after everything they had been through in the last twenty four hours.

If Xicerine was surprised to have a human talking back, he hid it very well. He folded his arms and continued to scowl in her direction. "I won't have my manners questioned by you, young lady. We had an agreement that you would keep them away from my home and you cannot even do that right. You're all exhausting."

The dam of anger burst, coursing through Becky's veins. She thrust the sack of tokoloshe back into Bastien's chest, and planted herself firmly in the doorway.

"Did it ever occur to you that we have more important things to do than tidy up your home? Like hunting down a witch before she kidnaps every Shadowkind in the city? Or taking out a gang of demons? Or catching some kind of sea monster that's tearing whales and dragon turtles to shreds? In your infinite wisdom, did that ever cross your mind once?"

She took great pains not to shout, though her voice was trying to climb with every syllable. By her side, Bastien was nervously backing away, shoving the bag of tokoloshe unceremoniously down the umbrella stand and pulling his sword just a little closer. But it was Xicerine's reaction that held her attention. He recoiled back by half a step, the colour draining from his face. She wondered if this was the first time anyone had ever talked back to him.

"Of course it didn't," she concluded, bitterness starting to edge into her voice. "And since you don't seem to have grasped the concept that you shouldn't upset people when you want them to help you, let me make it simple – don't come back here until you've learned respect!"

And with that she slammed the door in his face.

She had not noticed the shake in her hands or the hot sick ball in her throat until she took a step back from the door. She could feel him still standing on the other side, trying to process everything she had said, probably still wearing the same look of horror that had dawned when she had started ranting.

 _More arguing. More fighting._ Her throat squeezed tighter. Why did it always end in a fight? She was sick of fighting with everyone.

Unable to bear it for a moment longer, she turned and stormed into the kitchen. She could hear whispering from the lounge as she disappeared. Her breakfast had gone cold on the table, but it did not matter – she had never felt less like eating.

Bastien's footsteps were only a few minutes behind.

"That was out of line."

"I know." She had known it was as soon as she had slammed the door.

"You have no idea just how lucky you are. I was expecting him to claw the shit out of your face." He stood on the opposite side of the table, hands planted firmly on the wood. She ducked her head, feeling small and ashamed.

"Thando and I are taking the girls back to the harbour. When I come back, I'll drop you at the hospital."

She understood. She needed to calm down before she went anywhere. Clearly she was more rattled than she had thought. The thought of getting to hospital sent fresh anxiety writhing away in her stomach, and she felt the sudden childish urge to run there, crawl into her grandmother's arms and never leave.

"You're not in trouble, Becky," her distress must have been showing. Bastien leaned forward across the table, his voice softening somewhat. "But you should think about apologising."

She nodded. Mitigating circumstances did not matter – she should not have shouted, no matter how rude the roc had been. She was an adult, and she did not have the luxury of having a tantrum.

"I'll see you in a bit. Make a cup of tea and finish eating. Your clothes should be done soon."

The calmness did not hide the disappointment still lingering in his voice, and Becky felt crushed as he left. For some reason the prospect of disappointing Bastien cut her deeper than the prospect of disappointing her family ever had.

 _I fear disappointing my colleagues more than disappointing people who love me. What does that say about me_?

The answer was not something she ever hoped to find out.

OOO

There was a surprise waiting for them in the harbour.

As Bastien stepped onto the Sunspear, his eyes sweeping the deck for anything unusual or unpleasant, he caught the distinctive rush of a large amount of water being parted as a body broke the surface. Instinctively he went for his sword, but Serena's hand gripped his arm tightly, preventing him from attacking.

"Koka!"

Sure enough, the baby dragon turtle's head bobbed upright at the sound of his name. He had surfaced alongside the yacht, treading water with his heavy flippers. Heaven only knew how he had managed to navigate the busy waterway without being seen. Still on the pontoon, Thando's jaw fell open in astonishment, and Akeila laughed heartily at him.

"You're okay!" Koka clicked, as Serena hurried to the back and descended the diving platform. Bastien approached cautiously. Seeing report photos of Koka taken on an iPhone was one thing, but seeing the baby in the flesh, paddling around the boat and nuzzling at Serena's legs as she sat down on the edge of the platform was something else. He might have been small, but he was pretty magnificent.

"I was so worried!" the baby crooned as the biologist scratched the ridges above his eyes. "The blowers heard her coming! I wanted to warn you but they were already swimming away and I didn't want to be left alone-"

"It's okay," stopping his urgent explanation, Serena cupped his face and gave a brave attempt at a smile. "You did the right thing. We're fine. She just gave us a fright."

Koka sank his chin beneath the surface of the water. "She's scary," he whispered. "I don't like her."

"Do you know her?" jumping the last rung of the ladder, Bastien landed on the diving platform next to Serena. The dragon turtle squeaked and sank another inch into the water.

"Who's that?" he whispered fearfully in Serena's direction.

"He's Bastien. You can trust him."

She said it so quickly and matter of factually that Bastien was momentarily caught off guard before a warm feeling spread through his brain. It was nice after all the flack they had been taking from the local police to have someone appreciate them.

"He's a Shadowchaser!" Koka surged out of his hiding place as he took a good long look at the unfamiliar man. "He has the mark like Becky did! I like Becky," he added, directly to Bastien. "She's my friend."

"Yes she is," Bastien nodded, getting comfortable next to the half-nymph. "And she and Serena have told me a lot about you."

He reached out to give the dragon a scratch. His hide felt like slippery rock, and he seemed to become boneless under the touch, floating in the swell like a contented puppy.

 _I'm touching a dragon,_ Bastien thought, unable to resist the grin creeping over his face. This was something of a lifetime achievement for a Shadowchaser, and it did not hurt that Koka was adorable as hell.

"Did you fight the witch?" the baby asked drowsily. Withdrawing his hand, Bastien shook his head.

"No. But we're going to," he promised. "Did you see her last night?"

Koka's cheerful relief seemed to evaporate, and he shook his head, sending water swirling around him.

"No. I ran. But the blowers have seen her. She scares them," he shuddered. "She scares me. She's fast. And she hated you last night." He said, looking at Serena. The nymph looked aghast.

"What did I do?" she wailed, her hands coming to cover her face. The gears turned in Bastien's head.

"I don't think it's you, specifically," he admitted, turning back to the dragon. "Did she hate you too, do you think?"

Koka nodded. "She hates me. She hates everything...I could feel it. And she smells of death. She's a big ball of hate and death."

Bastien nodded, feeling a sinking feeling in his gut. If the kidnappings were emotionally motivated, it made figuring out a reason much difficult without knowing exactly who their sea witch was.

"The blowers want to leave," Koka went on. "They don't like dead witches or monsters that come up from below to eat them. They want to move on to safer waters."

"Will you go with them?" Serena asked, anxiously. "Even though we haven't found your mother yet?"

She was clearly not keen to let such a young baby out on his own. Koka sank nervously below the surface of the water again.

"I think...I think I should..." he admitted. "There's two blowers with babies of their own. They will help feed me. I want to find mummy, but...I don't like it here. It scares me." He nuzzled Serena's knees, his big brown eyes gazed imploringly at her. "I want to be safe."

She swallowed hard, clearly wanting nothing more than to scoop the baby out of the water and keep him protected, and Bastien decided to intervene.

"Of course you do. And you should. Whales are intelligent, and you'll be safer in a big group of them than you would here with just a few people watching over you."

He did his best not to look at Serena, who was gazing at him with a hurt expression that faintly pulled on his heart (a trait she had inherited from her mother, no doubt). Koka meanwhile, seemed to relax.

"I'm glad you said that," he gave Bastien's leg a happy nose too. "You're right. Big groups are safer. But..." his eyes flicked between the two. "When you do find Mummy, could you tell her where I've gone? Tell her to follow the blowers? She knows their routes, and she's really fast - I know she'll be able to catch up with us easy."

"We will," Bastien gave his head a rub. "Serena guards these waters. If - _when_ we find your mother we'll send her your way. I'm sure she's missing you."

He could have kicked himself for his obvious verbal backspace, but Koka did not seem to have noticed, too busy nuzzling Serena's legs again.

"Thank you for looking after me," he said. Serena for her part, looked heartbroken, but she managed another weak smile.

"You're welcome."

"Kisses?" Koka asked, eyes wide and hopeful. He giggled in delight when Serena obliged him with a loving kiss on the top of his head. "Can I say goodbye to Akeila? Oh! And if you see Becky, say goodbye to her too?"

"Of course," Serena's voice was shaking and she cleared it to shout. "Ma? Koka wants to say goodbye. He's leaving with the pod."

"Smart boy!" the nymph proclaimed, jumping down from the deck onto the diving platform. She had removed her glasses, and Bastien carefully avoided looking at her eyes. "You stick close to them and look after yourself. And we'll be here if you need us, okay?"

"Okay," the baby nodded earnestly, while Serena looked even more put out that she was getting no back up from her mother. "Kisses?"

Feeling as though he should give them a moment, Bastien left the trio to their goodbyes, clambering back up the ladder where Thando was putting the last of the additional spells around the deck.

"Are we all secure up here?" he asked.

"As much as we can be," Thando said grimly. "But to be honest, we don't have anything that the Oracle doesn't have, and they didn't stop her last night."

"Might stop the tokoloshe though," Bastien reminded him. "We're still not sure what spells they react to."

He broke off chuckling as Thando skidded on a wet patch and landed ungracefully on his right hip.

"Have a nice trip?" Akeila drawled, as she appeared at the top of the ladder. Thando blushed under the smirk of the beautiful woman. "Hope you boys are finished. Serena's refuelling and heading out into the bay. I'm going to fire up the Cessna and follow Koka until he rejoins the pod."

So she was concerned underneath. Bastien had to confess, he was feeling uneasy too - the idea that the vast empty ocean was safer than the sheltered bay did not sit well with him. And it was not just Koka's safety that concerned him now.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked.

"We've got work to be getting on with," Akeila said with a nod. "And you know what they say about getting straight back on the horse, and all."

The last part was a fraction louder and firmer, and it may have had something to do with Serena reappearing over the top of the ladder. Akeila promptly excused herself with a wave, and Thando followed, muttering something about getting off the boat before he broke something.

"I hope he's okay..." Serena trailed off, her gaze being pulled magnetically back to the sea. "He's only little and with something picking off the humpbacks..."

Bastien cringed. With the witch at the top of their priority list, he had completely neglected to think about the potentially enormous new predator terrorising the whale population, and responsible for making Koka's mother disappear.

"He'll be okay," he said. "He knows to come back to us if anything goes wrong."

The biologist chewed her lip, apparently not satisfied with the result. "I'll stay out in the bay," she decided eventually. "Then if he needs to come back, I'll be there."

"If you don't feel safe-" Bastien began, but she shook her head.

"It's not about me. It's about him. It doesn't matter if I'm safe, as long as he is."

Her terror was obvious, but her resolve held stronger, which made Bastien smile.

"If you're sure then," he nodded, taking one last look of the boat, to reassure himself that they had done everything they could. "I'd better get going. We have a few communities to check in with - after last night, I don't want anyone else vanishing."

Serena nodded, a tinge of pink appearing in her cheeks. "So, I guess I'll see you..."

"Yeah." Bastien had the sudden niggling sense that she was expecting something. "I'll keep in touch. Let you know if we find anything."

"...right." She sounded unconvinced, and it was only as Bastien turned away and jumped back onto the pier that he realised that she had sounded hurt too.

"That was...weird," he admitted as he approached the bikes. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Thando roll his eyes. "What?"

"A bit hopeless, aren't you?" his friend stated, placing his helmet into his lap. He must have seen the hurt that flickered through Bastien, for he sighed, and drummed his fingers against the visor. "She was waiting for you to confirm if you were still on for Saturday."

"...was she?" colour rushed to Bastien's face. In the mayhem of the previous evening, the upcoming date had completely slipped his mind. "How do you know?"

Groaning, Thando thumped his head into the back of his helmet. "I have a girlfriend, Bastien. I pay attention."

Bastien was not sure that he saw his friend's point - after all, he had been married - but he thought about how it must have seemed from Serena's perspective and winced. Maybe his friend was right. He had planned to add Serena and her mother to his list of check ins, and he made a mental note to mention it when he called in later.

Deep in his pocket, his phone buzzed. He was more than a little surprised to see that he recognised the ID.

"Have we got budget left this year for a new smartphone for me, or am I going to have to struggle off the grid until April?" Thando asked, his tone only half joking.

"Gelehrin Duru is trying to video chat me," Bastien stated, only half aware that he wasn't answering his friend's question. It worked however, as Thando immediately dropped his helmet and scrambled to his side.

"What is with that woman? She's called us more in the past five days than she has in the past five years!"

Shrugging, Bastien pressed the green button and waited for the screen to load. Thando peered over him like an oversized shoulder angel as the video connected.

The first thing that struck Bastien as the video snapped into view was that Gelehrin looked tired. She was still neatly dressed, and her hair was in an impeccably straight frame around her face, but she was leaning forward heavily onto her desk, her skin had taken on a snow-like quality and her eyes had the sunken shadows of someone who really needed to lay down under five blankets and enough pillows to make the sun disappear. For a moment, Bastien entertained the notion that he might be catching her with a hangover, before dismissing it instantly - he knew perfectly well that Gelehrin was far too uptight to get drunk.

"Good morning Gelehrin," he greeted, wanting to make sure that he lead the conversation. Given how her meeting with Thando had ended the other day, he should probably be the one to speak. The elf was pinching the bridge of her nose and glared at him as she replied.

"It most certainly is not," she grumbled. "Is the Incantifer with you?"

Against his shoulder, Bastien felt Thando tense, and he could practically feel the scowl appearing on his friend's face. "Vuyo isn't here, no." He answered quickly.

"Good." Clearly steeling herself for what she had to do next, Gelehrin took a deep breath. "I need your assistance."

"Could you be a little more specific, please?" Bastien asked. He wasn't agreeing to anything without more information. Clearly disappointed, Gelehrin sighed.

"The police are looking for me," she admitted. "They have a warrant for my arrest, and they have been patrolling the borders of our forest all night. I need you to get them off my back."

Surprise did not even begin to cover what Bastien felt - it was not in Gelehrin's nature to ask for help from anyone outside of her own group. She probably had not done anything too illegal - she knew the rules of the Great Treaty, and if she had committed some sort of mundane crime the Shadowchasers could offer her no support - but she must have done something to warrant their interest.

"Why don't you tell us what you did first?" Thando was clearly having similar thoughts. "And then we'll decide if we want to help."

"I don't care what you want to do, Thando," Gelehrin snapped, rubbing the bridge of her nose again. "I'm legally obligated to protection in this case, as stipulated under the Great Treaty."

"We'll be the judge of that," Bastien interrupted before Thando could retort. "What happened, Gelehrin?"

He did not miss the way that the elf glanced around her study before speaking, as though checking for eavesdroppers.

"Conall was arrested yesterday."

"Are you kidding me?" Thando's disbelief was loud and clear, and Bastien shared the sentiment. Conall was a timid bookworm who was well known among Shadowkind academics for his papers on magical history. The idea of him committing any sort of crime was laughable.

"What did he do?"

Pulling her fingers away from her headache, Gelehrin threw her hand up weakly in helplessness. "From what I can gather from his kids, he's lost his mind. We're all a bit shaken up after the unicorns the other day, but he was getting very erratic. Then early yesterday morning he stole a car, bundled the kids into the back and tried to leave town. The police caught him doing a hundred and three miles an hour on the N2 and took him into custody."

Thando whistled. "Damn! Didn't think he had it in him!"

Bastien however was extrapolating the story ahead, and already had a feeling he knew what Gelehrin wanted. "And you want us to intervene because you're worried that Conall might get caught out during questioning and expose the elves to the police?"

"I don't care what he's spilling to the police - they think he's insane!" Gelehrin exclaimed. "They're shipping him off to Valkenberg in the next few days. I was worried what the twins would spill! They're kids! They can't lie to trained police officers! I had to get them out of there before they could be questioned!"

Now Bastien understood. There was an entire subclause in the Treaty about the dangers of children blowing the masquerade. "So you removed them from custody yourself?"

"I had to!"

Behind him, Thando groaned and covered his face. Bastien managed to contain himself, but only barely. This was an absolute disaster.

"Gelehrin, you should have called us right from the start," he sighed. "We have procedures in place to extract Shadowkind minors from custody without hassle in these situations."

"I panicked!" For the first time, a crack showed in Gelehrin's mask. "I didn't have time to wait around for you! For all I knew social services were already there planning to whisk them off to a foster home! They've already suffered enough! Heiko won't even talk to me, and Celia just sits under Conall's desk crying! They don't understand where their father is, and I can't find a way to explain it to them!" A hitch appeared in her voice "I've already lost Stalatee this week - I couldn't bear to lose them too!"

In the corner of his eye, Bastien could see Thando looking extremely uncomfortable at the rare chink in the woman's façade. No wonder she looked exhausted. If Bastien had been through the week she'd had, he'd probably look like that too.

"Alright, we understand. You did what you thought was right." Putting his most soothing voice on, Bastien began sorting through the practicalities in his head. "Are the kids with you now?"

She nodded.

"Alright, we can put a call into the police and tell them to back off, but we'll have to get a statement from you and the kids before we can authorise an intervention," he advised. "Then we can get in touch with social services and start the process for naming you their interim guardian."

Gelehrin glanced anxiously over her shoulder as though expecting them to appear in her doorway instantly. "Do you need to come down here or can you interview us all over the phone?"

"Sorry, it has to be face to face," Bastien insisted. "Shadowchaser policy."

"I'll go," Thando offered. "You have to take Becky to hospital and Vuyo's going to be at the refuge all morning probably."

"I'll not have the incantifer anywhere near my home!" the elf became aggressive again. "I mean it!"

"Jesus Christ!" Thando threw up his hands, and took a few steps back, muttering under his breath in furious Xhosa. Now it was Bastien's turn to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Thando will come and interview the kids and I'll catch up later," he promised. He had no intention of leaving Thando alone with Gelehrin for any extended length of time. His friend had the patience and temperament of a saint, but not where insults to his girlfriend were concerned. He would leave calling social services to Vuyo later though – she had the better contacts and would know who could help.

A thought that had been drifting across the back of his mind now jumped to the front as he cast about for something to distract Gelehrin from her complaints. "Conall's area of expertise is magical history - if his behaviour became strange after the unicorns disappeared, could he have been researching what happened to them?"

It worked – Gelehrin's irritation disappeared instantly, replaced with apparent confusion. "What makes you think that he was researching it?"

Bastien shrugged. "Because that's what most people do in a crisis."

"He's right." Thando returned to the conversation, his expression composed again. "When I found out about my mum's illness I researched everything I could find about it so I'd be prepared. Conall was an academic – arming himself with knowledge against a potential threat would have been second nature to him."

Now Bastien was getting excited. "He might have found something that could help us. Can you allow us access to his office?"

Gelehrin's mouth was opening and closing goldfish style, confusion now warring with sudden panic. "Why on earth would you want to come and snoop through my brother's papers? There can't be anything of use to you there. He was a historian - unless it was over a century old, he just wasn't interested."

"We have nothing right now, Gelehrin," Bastien did not mind admitting it. As far as this case was concerned, they were so far past desperate that they were looking at it in the rearview mirror. "And I know it's a long shot, but if Conall did find anything it could be the break we need to get all your unicorns and everyone else back."

On the other end of the screen, Gelehrin rubbed her arm uncomfortably. "I wouldn't even know where to start." She admitted. "Conall didn't keep the tidest office, and I never paid much attention to how he stored information. I was never that interested-"

"That's not a problem," Bastien assured. It could not be worse than some of the homicides he had seen over the last few years. "We're good at ferreting stuff out."

Gelehrin still looked uncertain, but she sighed heavily and shook her head. "Oh alright, I suppose you can look. I don't know what you'll find in there though."

"Don't worry, we'll find something." Bastien was already making plans in his head. "We'll be with you soon, Gelehrin. Make sure there's a quiet place where we can interview the kids."

The elf nodded in a distracted manner, before Bastien cut the connection off.

"Just when I thought we couldn't upset the police any more," he sighed. "Kloeter isn't going to be happy - he's going to have a hard time convincing everyone to drop an incident that happened right inside the police station."

"Never mind him," Thando shook his head, his eyes still narrowed at where the screen had been. "Did you see how nervous Gelehrin got when we started asking to come and look at Conall's research?"

Curious, Bastien tilted his head at his friend. "The woman has spent her entire adult life trying to keep the outside away from her home and her race. And now we've invited ourselves over to snoop around inside her house. I'd be surprised if she hadn't been anxious."

"...or she's hiding something," Thando said. "She knows there might be something in that research that she doesn't want us to find out."

He looked so fired up by the idea, that Bastien felt he had to put the breaks on. "Why would she do that, Thando? Her brother's in prison, and his two kids are in her custody - if she knew anything that could help her get him out, she would tell us."

"Then why didn't she ask us to intervene with Conall?" Thando asked, folding his arms pointedly. "All she asked for was for us to get the cops off her back. She knows it's well within our powers to help him, so why does she suddenly not seem to care if he gets out or not?"

Bastien's defence came to a screeching halt as he realised that Thando had a point. They didn't have the power to release Conall from prison – mundane crimes were mundane business, not theirs – but they could recommend release from psychiatric wards. "She did say that the kids think he lost his mind. Maybe she thinks it would be best for him to be helped by professionals?"

Even as he said it he realised the problems with that statement, and Thando snorted in disbelief as he put voice to them.

"Oh please! You just said it yourself - the woman hates outside interference! Why would she want her brother to be treated by mundane humans? She'd want him back in the safety of the forest where she could arrange the help herself."

"There could be a million reasons," Bastien reminded him. While he knew Thando had a point, he had to be the rational one. "She could be embarrassed to have him back home. She could be stressed and not thinking straight. This is all just speculation. We don't know how her mind works right now."

Thando huffed. "Sure we don't. It's not like we've been dealing with her for years and have any idea how she thinks or how she behaves."

Something about hearing his friend going fully into sarcasm when he was usually so level headed and respectful made Bastien impatient. "Are you sure you're not just letting your personal feelings about her get in the way?"

He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as he said it. The bitterness was dashed from Thando's face in an instant like it had been slapped away.

"...are you saying I'm so petty that I'd make stuff up about Gelehrin to get her into trouble just because she insults my girlfriend?"

"No!" Bastien wanted to kick himself. "I'm not saying you're petty. But I know it pisses you off-"

"Oh I don't believe this!" Thando was already storming back to his bike and kicking it into life. Bastien winced - he was glad that kick had not been direct at him.

"Thando-"

"Save it," his friend said, clipping his helmet into place. "I'll see you at Newlands."

"Thando!" He really did not want his friend to drive off angry, but the bike was already pulling out into the road, and heading off to the highway.

Swearing quietly to himself, Bastien leaned against his own bike and wondered when it had all started going wrong again.

OOO

 _Everyone fights_ , Becky told herself, as she clung onto Bastien's waist and tried not to doze off on the back of his bike. They were the same two words she had been telling herself since they had left Bantry. The ones that Vuyo had reminded her of as she had flown out of the door to check on the girls at the refuge.

 _Everyone fights._ _Families fight. Bastien and Thando fight. Eventually we get over it and move on._

She did not see how, but she knew she had to do it. There was too much going on and her head felt full with worries. In front of her, Bastien was focusing on the road, the stiffness in his posture betraying his own troubles. He had briefly explained what had happened on the docks, and all she had been able to do was hug him and assure him that it would be okay. She had more faith in that than her own predicament. Bastien and Thando were remarkably like Emily and Judy - they didn't really know how to be mad at each other for a long period of time, and she suspected that they would have made up by the end of the day.

If only she could be so lucky.

The traffic was mercifully thin and it only took half an hour to get to the hospital. Even though she knew her grandmother was fine, Becky had nerves jumping away in her stomach the closer they got.

 _When did I start dreading my family?_ She realise sadly. Vuyo's advice to talk to them was all well and good, but it felt like a horrible example of Schrodinger's cat. While the subject remained unspoken about, her family were neither supporting her or against her. But if she spoke about it, the result would be determined permanently one way or the other. She did not know if she was ready for that yet, but she could not sit on it forever. That was not healthy for her family.

The road turned off, bringing the bike to the street which ran alongside the main entrance. Cars filed in and out of the unloading bay, and a steady flow of people moved in and out of the automatic doors, squinting as they emerged from the dark interior to the brightness of the morning. Some of them headed for cars with heavy shoulders, others moved quickly and nervously, their fingers fumbling with cigarettes as they headed for the smoking shelter. Marina was standing patiently by the flowerbox, a coffee in one hand, her phone in the other.

The bike crunched along the tarmac, pulling to a stop at the end of the unloading bay, and Becky felt her nerves jingle again. Swallowing hard, she gave Bastien's waist a final squeeze before getting off the bike. He must have felt her, for he flipped his helmet up enough to peer at her.

"You going to be okay?"

She felt like she should be asking him that after everything that had happened that morning, so she settled for reassurance, no matter how hollow she knew it to be.

"I'll be fine." The expression on his face told her in no uncertain terms that her lie was completely transparent, so she tried for a faint shot at humour. "I'll call you tonight…or if Ruan arrests me. Whichever happens first."

It worked somewhat, for Bastien snorted. "If he arrests you, he'll have to arrest all of us. We can share a cell."

The corner of her lips twitched. "Cosy."

Marina was still watching her over the rim of a coffee cup, and Becky felt the sudden need for reassurance. Fortunately, Bastien seemed to sense it too, and gave her one last hug before kicking the engine into life again. She waved as the bike pulled out of the unloading bay and took her colleague off back towards the bay.

From her position on the stairs, Marina said nothing as Becky approached. Her heart had started to thump again. Her aunt pitched her empty cup into the bin.

"How is she doing?" she asked anxiously. Marina turned toward the automatic doors, and she fell into step beside her. No yelling or shunning yet, which was a plus.

"Wide awake and refusing to sleep again until she's seen you. Surgery was a success."

She released a breath. She had not realised just how anxious she had been, in spite of the reassuring text messages.

The reception was relatively quiet. She was not certain why she was surprised – it was a Thursday morning after all. Most of the chairs were occupied by parents with small screaming children. A handful of elderly people were scattered amongst them, waiting to see relatives. Marina weaved through them all and all Becky had to do was stick close as they turned down a quieter corridor that lead towards post-op.

"Where's everyone else?" she asked. However much she had resolved to mend things with her family she was not certain she could manage all of them at once.

"I sent them all home to sleep," Marina rolled her eyes. "Before your grandmother could be treated, the nurses had to see to your mother. She was getting a bit hysterical. They gave her some Valium and told Andi and Vi to take her home."

Becky groaned into her hands. The one way guaranteed to get Andi's temper up was to lumber her with her mother in the height of anxiety.

"They said they'd come back after lunch when they'd all had some kip," Marina stated.

"What about you?" Becky asked. Marina shrugged.

"I'm fine. I had a nap while mum was in theatre. It also gave me a chance to think about things."

Becky felt her back going up. _Down girl,_ she told herself. This was not the way to make peace with her family. Vuyo was right – she needed to get her facts straight before she jumped to the assumption that they were against her. "And?"

Marina rolled her neck a little as she pushed open the door to the recovery ward. "Ruan is a good man, Becky, and I love him. That means he isn't vindictive. He didn't spend all night pouring venom into my ears. So you can relax."

She didn't even realise that she had been tense in the first place. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Marina waved her off. "So yes, Ruan is cautious. But I make my own mind up. And I've decided that I don't care."

Becky found herself blinking in stupefication at her aunt. "Really?"

"Really," Marina shrugged. "Like I said, I've had a long time in this hospital to think it over. We were attacked last night – your grandmother was shot – and your instinct was to protect us. You jumped on that creep and gave him a beating, even though you were outnumbered." She nodded to Becky's knuckles, which still bore bruises from her punch up with Marko. "I think that says more than enough about your loyalties."

She folded her arms. "Helps too that the first thing your grandmother did after she woke up was ask if you had come back," she admitted with a sigh. "It's hard to argue with her even when she's doped up. I'm still surprised she knows more than the rest of us – did you tell her, or did she figure it out?"

"Figured it out," Becky admitted. She did not want to tell her aunt that she had her own suspicions about her grandmother's knowledge.

"Hmm...she would," Marina muttered dryly. "I can't speak for the rest of the family, but I'm cool with you both getting up to whatever it is you do. Just – and I apologise for sounding selfish – try not to bring it to the wedding? I've got enough stress already dealing with Ruan's mother."

"That's not selfish," Becky told her. She was vaguely aware that they had stopped outside a door – a subtle signal that they were settling this before they moved on. "It's not going to affect the wedding. I swear."

"Good." Apparently satisfied, Marina pushed a hand to the door. "Now enough with the serious talk. Let's go assure her that you've not had your soul taken, or whatever it was she was saying."

It was a good suggestion, for the solemn beeping of the heart monitor and other contraptions of the room made the entire tone more serious than ever. Lihle lay under a sheet and blanket, with wires strung in and out of her hospital gown. Beneath the edge of the blanket, her chest was dramatically lopsided, and Becky found her brain was struggling as it mentally tried to fill the empty space in. Even though she knew she was fine, it still sent a chill down her spine – you didn't come into hospital in the first place if you were fine, after all.

Though laying down Lihle was clearly wide awake, and jumped a little as they entered. It may have been Becky's imagination but she liked to think that her eyes lit up as she registered her granddaughter sliding down the bed.

"There's my brave girl," her voice was a little quiet, but she was clearly coherent enough. One arm came up enough for Becky to slide under for a hug, patting her softly on the back as she did. It was the most comforting feeling that Becky had experienced all morning. Now that she was closer, she could see the dressings and drains beneath the paper robe. As she watched, a thin trickle of yellow slid down the tube, and she fought down the urge to vomit.

"Yeah, don't look at that," Lihle advised, seeing where her attention was. "Makes me sick, and I'm the one its coming out of." She released her, and squinted at her as though she were on the other side of frosted glass, clearly checking for any signs of injury that she might have missed.

"Are you okay, Nana?" It was one thing to read it and be told it, but Becky knew she needed to hear it to be completely relaxed. Lihle huffed.

"I'm fine – just a bit bruised," she flapped a hand dismissively. "Everyone needs to stop fussing. I'm a tough old bird."

"If you do say so yourself," Marina quipped, sitting in a chair in the corner and pulling out her phone.

"I do say so myself," Lihle said haughtily, before patting Becky's hand. "So, did you give him a good spanking like I told you to?"

Wincing as she remembered the healing wound in her side, Becky slid into the nearest chair. "Sort of. I kicked his ass and we were about to arrest him, but…well, there were a few girls who wanted a piece of him, and we weren't going to get in their way."

Lihle gave a laugh, loud and pleased. "Good for them! Well done, my girl. What about the one you arrested in the club last night?"

"You mean the one you nailed in the nuts?" Becky enquired, dryly. Over in the corner, Marina snorted in amusement as she remembered the incident. "He's being held with no opportunity for bail, and spent the night pressing an ice pack between his legs. I'll probably have to give evidence when it goes to trial-"

"Not alone you won't," Lihle interrupted. "That man's costing me a fortune in hospital bills – you tell that boss of yours that I'm testifying too!"

She sounded so determined that Becky felt the urge to salute. "Alright, I'll make sure it's noted. When are they letting you out?"

Something about the number of wires and tubes poking out of her grandmother made it feel far more serious than simply having a bullet and an implant extracted.

"I only need to watch for infection once all this gunk drains away. I'll be out by tomorrow," Lihle waved her hand dismissively once again.

"You heard the doctors. They'd much rather you stay in until the weekend," Marina interjected, placing her phone in her lap and giving her mother a stern look. "Just to be safe."

"Oh pish to that!" the patient exclaimed. "My health is perfectly robust! I didn't even crack any ribs! I'll discharge myself if I have to – I've got work to be getting on with!"

"Mum, my wedding is not nearly as important as your health," Marina argued. "Ruan and I talked about it and we can push it back until you're completely recovered."

Lihle looked so offended that Becky half expected her to jump out of bed and lay down the law, tubes and wires be damned. She went for the second best option of folding her arms and sitting up as best she could.

"Listen to me, young lady," the voice was stern and strong. "You postpone this wedding, and I swear to all the Gods, when we get home I will pull out all my albums and show Ruan the most embarrassing pictures of you that I can find."

Becky winced – that was a little underhand, but she gave her grandmother credit for not being afraid to blackmail her children. Marina on the other hand, merely looked sceptical.

"You can't threaten me with that – he knows about my Spice Girl phase, and he's seen photos of the school talent show."

"Did he see the video?" Lihle asked, with the carelessness of one who already knew the answer. Marina now looked visibly unnerved.

"…there is no video – you never digitally converted it, and you threw the tape out when you moved house." She declared, but uncertainty was creeping into her voice. Lihle smiled.

"Are you willing to take that risk?"

"…I changed my mind, Becky," Marina declared. "Keep all the secrets you want from your mother. Then they can never be used against you." She got her feet. "I need to go make some calls – I'll be back in a bit."

"Hang on!" Lihle waved a hand. "Before you go I have to _tell you what I want, what I really really want!"_

Becky knew it wouldn't be nice to laugh, but her side was really starting to hurt. Marina made a noise that was somewhere between mortified and frustrated. As the door swung closed behind her, Lihle chuckled to herself, and Becky shook her head.

"You're evil, Nana," she declared.

"No, just experienced," Lihle looked very pleased with her own deviousness, but the moment was broken as she yawned. "And too tired for the delicate approach right now, if I'm honest. Now, did you bring me my salt?"

Sighing, Becky reached into her bag and pulled out the box of rock salt that she had pinched off Vuyo. "You do realise all the demons from last night are either kidnapped, dead or in jail now?"

"I'll sleep better knowing that it's there," her grandmother declared. "Now sprinkle it down, there's a good girl."

Shaking her head, Becky got to her feet and began dusting a neat straight line of rock salt across the windowsill. It felt a little pointless – any demon that desperate to get in would just pull the roof off – but she was learning that superstition was a powerful thing. The tokoloshe were teaching her that. Even though she knew that it was fruitless, sleep had come easier to her the previous night just knowing that the beds were elevated. If putting a line of salt over the entrance points of the room helped her grandmother sleep comfortably, then it was worth it.

"There's no point in doing the door or around your bed," she pointed out. "Doctors and nurses will probably scuff it when they come in to do your obs."

"Mhmm…" Lihle had wriggled down the bed into a more comfortable position, and closed her eyes. "Tuck it under my pillow then. I can throw it in their faces."

"Yeah that'll stop another bullet," Becky muttered sarcastically, but she did as she was told and slid the box under the pillows.

"They surprised me – pulling a gun," Lihle muttered thoughtfully, her closed eyes creasing into a frown. "Not how gangs usually roll in this city, is it?"

"Yeah, I think that surprised us all," Becky agreed, sitting back in the chair. "I guess Marko and his guys like to give themselves all the advantage they can."

"Mmm..." Lihle nodded. Now that the salt was down and she had a guarantee of safety, she seemed to be tiring fast. Becky was pretty sure that it was only her own willpower that had kept her going. "Can't believe he shot my boob. I look ridiculous."

Becky chuckled. "Yeah well at least if you don't get your way with Ruan's mother you can pull the 'I'm injured' card now."

"They were nice breasts...good breasts…" Her grandmother's vision glazed again in the sunlight. "I got those from my grandfather…"

Becky chuckled. "Even if you could inherit breasts from a man, you didn't inherit these ones. They were fake."

Lihle shook her head, impatient that her granddaughter was not following her less than lucid train of thought. "No no no. He bought them for me…" Somehow she managed to detect her granddaughter's confusion through her closed eyes. "Oh come now, dear. Your grandfather was a GP and I was a primary school teacher. Did you really think we could have afforded reconstructive surgery on our own? Your great great grandfather put up the money...never found out where he got it from, but meh..."

Becky was a little surprised. She had not known that little family titbit, and she filed it away. "What a waste of money. That's a shame." She was already making plans to pay for her grandmother's replacement – it was her fault she had lost it after all.

"Hmm..." Lihle mumbled. Her thin fingers slid over Becky's. "Don't let it beat you, my girl."

"Huh?" Becky blinked, certain that now her grandmother was out of it.

"The women in our family are strong...they always have been. Apartheid didn't beat my grandmother. All the gangs couldn't beat my mother. Divorce did not beat Marina. Cancer didn't beat me," She squeezed her granddaughter's fingers with surprising strength. " _This_ , my girl, will not beat you."

Something warm fluttered in Becky's heart, and she rested her head on the bed beside her. "Thanks Nana."

"Hmm..." Lihle was barely audible now as she drifted off, and Becky fished for her bag, deciding that now would be a good time to get a coffee if she didn't want to join her in dreamland.

OOO

 **A/N:** Ta. Da.

Apologies for the wait everyone. NaNoWriMo chewed up my soul and spat it out to make room for Christmas. Reviews are a wonderful salve, if you were wondering...

 **Shadowchaser Files**

 **Serena Van Kaan (Ph.D)**

Many Shadowkind make it their mission in life to rise to positions of power throughout the world, in order to provide better living for their kind. Police, government and businesses are often infiltrated by highly qualified magical beings, who then use their influence to suppress or advance actions that would have a direct impact on them or their neighbours.

Serena Van Kaan is another of these motivated individuals, however one who has taken a very unique road to helping others. Born to a nymph mother and a white South African father, she had the privilege of a good education, and all the right contacts. After graduating from the University of Cape Town with her doctorate in oceanography, she swiftly began securing the safety of the various marine Shadowkind living in False Bay. Her achievements include resettling her mother's community of nymphs in a new, safer location after local interest in the beautiful women became dangerous, and negotiating the peace between two long feuding clans of merfolk. Between these tasks, Serena focuses her research on the numerous species of whale in South Africa, including a long study to measure and track the migrating population of humpback whales in the area. Though still young, she has already published a substantial number of papers (both mundane and Shadowkind), and had her work featured in peer reviewed journals.

Like all nymphs, Serena despises ugliness, and will often become physically uncomfortable in the absence of beauty. Death and destruction have been known to move her to tears, however she largely manages to control this in the presence of other humans. While perfectly capable of living on land, Serena prefers to be near the water. She keeps a home in Fish Hoek, right next to the beach (no, the irony of the town's name is not lost on her), however she spends long periods of time on her boat, The Sunspear, conducting research and observations in the bay.

 **Origins:** Serena showed up halfway through the first draft of this story, as I felt I hadn't had much in the way of diversity among Shadowkind in South Africa. As I make a habit of trying to avoid stereotypes wherever possible, I knew I wanted her to be more than the pretty face that nymphs are usually known for. I will put my hands up and admit that she is something of a backlash character against the sexism that is unfortunately still prevalent in the world of academia and research. But I did my best to make sure that there was more to her than just making a point.

 **Deck:** Serena did not pick up duelling until she was in her late teens – grudgingly after her roommate at UC Berkeley would not shut up about it. She uses a water deck centered around the Synchro Monster Gungnir, Dragon of the Ice Barrier and summoning/recycling the two versions of Aqua Madoor. With the Fishborg monsters as her tuners and access to Dark Factory of Mass Production and Salvage cards, she can summon multiple Gungnir with ease and uses its destruction effect to clear her opponent's field with ease. The strategy is straight forwards and a bit limited, but it's not meant to win tournaments - it's mean to keep her and the sea safe. As a surprise to anyone expecting just one strategy, though, she's recently included both the 'White' trio of Synchro Monsters and Crystrons, the recently released WATER Machines to give her an edge. It's a fast, quick and brutal deck - not reflective of Serena herself, but of how the ocean and its inhabitants can be as lethal as anything on the Earth.


	9. Photographer

**Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 9: Photographer**

"Ah Ruan! There you are!"

Not for the first time that morning, Ruan wished that magic was real – at least then he might be able to find a way to disappear into the floor. Instead he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to look pleased to see his colleague fall into step beside him.

"Hey Min. How did surveillance go? Did you make an arrest?"

Jostling the files under her arm so that they sat securely on her hip, Minnie's cheer morphed into a scowl. "Ugh, no. We had people and drones watching the forest edge all night." She shook her head. "It was weird, Ruan. Nothing came out of there - not even a bird. It was like the entire forest was empty."

The news that Gelehrin Duru was still at large only lowered Ruan's spirits. The entire station had remained on lockdown for three hours, and he had only heard updates through the grapevine. He knew that three of Minnie's best riders had pursued the intruder and her tiny Chevrolet Spark for about ten minutes before she had turned off somewhere past the M3 and disappeared into the trees. The riders had attempted to follow on foot, but the trail seemed to vanish as soon as the forest began - there were no wheel tracks, or broken branches indicating that a car had ploughed through them. If they hadn't seen the vehicle with their own eyes they might have believe it never existed.

Ruan could empathise. It's owner did not seem to exist either. In between making phone calls with Sven and Harriet, he had spent the lockdown submitting a request to the Criminal Record Centre in Pretoria, asking for a background check on both Gelehrin and Conall Duru, and the twins. He had been calling them so often over the course of these kidnappings that he was now on first name terms with most of the department.

"Did you see my email from CRC?" he asked, trying to engage his brain properly as they moved into the elevator. Minnie nodded.

"Yeah, I saw it," she shook her head. "I can't believe it. It's like a cult."

"Tell me about it," Ruan sighed. "You know what Oliver said when he called me yesterday? He said ' _hey, are you guys making these people up to give us something to do? We're not that bored, you know'_."

Minnie snorted and rolled her eyes, shifting to stand beside him as a handful of administrators joined them in the elevator, chatting loudly about the test cricket. "Well, we'll be hearing a lot more from Pretoria I imagine. Internal affairs are sending people down to investigate the break in and they're expecting us to keep the trail hot in the meantime. Since it's a kidnapping too I'm pretty sure they'll be collaborating with you guys."

Ruan groaned. "As if we didn't have enough to do already." Their department was already busy without adding yesterday's abduction into the mix. Internal affairs might be responsible for handling the investigation, but Conall and Gelehrin were inexorably linked to his own series of kidnappings now, and he had to find out what he needed to know before he started having to butt heads with another team of detectives.

"Yeah, I heard about the Oracle," Minnie dropped her voice low just in case the administrators lost interest in their spirited discussion about the world cup. "How's your mother-in-law?"

"How did you find out about that?" Ruan asked, his heart already sinking. Of course the entire station had probably heard by now. Anything involving Marko was big news, and the fact that it had turned into a huge kidnap had no doubt only fed the rumours.

"Our comms officers love to gossip," Minnie stated with a grin, and Ruan made a mental note to give Harriet a stern talking to later. "And I found the official statements myself."

Ruan sighed. "Lihle's okay. Surgery went well and she woke up just fine. Marina's with her now – she told me to go home and get some sleep."

Anxiety squirmed away inside him as he thought of his fiancé. He had listened to the story from the family, and read the statements from each of the witnesses while waiting in the hospital, and each time a fresh cold sliver of fear had slid into his heart as he heard how close Marina had come to being killed. If Becky had not tackled Marko, he would have spent the night in the morgue, not the emergency room. They were incredibly lucky that Lihle was the only casualty, and her injuries were not too serious - the doctors had been astonished that her implant had stopped the bullet so effectively, but there were cases of it happening before. Just an inch to the left though, and his future mother in law would probably not have survived to give her daughter away this weekend.

He hadn't wanted to go home and sleep. He had wanted to stay by Marina's side and hold her, just to reassure himself that she was really there. That she hadn't been a trigger squeeze from death. That he hadn't come this close to losing the woman he loved forever. But Marina had sent him home to sleep and then told him to go to work to take his mind off everything. There was nothing any of them could do but wait for Lihle to recover from surgery, and for Becky to show up again. And Ruan strongly suspected that Marina wanted some processing time of her own – she had almost been shot, after all.

The only updates he had had were text messages. Short and maddeningly simple.

" _Mum's out. Surgery went fine. They removed the entire right side. M."_

" _Lopsided Nana. She's gonna love that. V."_

" _Elize's starting to come round. Has anyone heard from Becky? C."_

" _I have. She's en route here. DO NOT COME DOWN! I'll have no arguing over Mum's bedside! M."_

Balancing her folders on her hip again, Minnie flipped her wrist over to stare at her watch. "You can't have had more than five hours kip, can you?"

"Four," Ruan corrected. The tightness across his forehead and the back of his neck told him that it wasn't enough.

Minnie winced. "That's rough. Don't stay too late today."

He nodded, but truthfully he did not want to go back to the house. Laying in bed with his eyes closed, his mind had nothing else to think about but the awful revelations of the night before.

Lihle getting shot.

Marina almost getting shot.

Thirty three people kidnapped from the nightclub in front of a dozen witnesses who were all too drunk or terrified to remember what they had seen.

And Becky…

How the hell had he missed that? He had put all the pieces together about her life and career with ease, except the one fact that really mattered. Not private security, as the rest of them had believed, but a vigilante.

A Shadowchaser.

He hated himself for not realising sooner.

"-if you wanted to try again?"

"Huh?" jolted out of his self pity, Ruan blinked. Minnie gave him a sympathetic look.

"You really aren't awake, are you?" She shook her head. "Definitely don't stay too late. I was saying Conall Duru's still downstairs. Nobody posted bail and Valkenberg don't have a bed for him until tomorrow so we're going to hang on to him until then if you wanted to interview him."

"What's he like this morning?" When Ruan had left the previous night, Conall had still been heavily sedated.

"Well he's not shouting any more," Minnie conceded. "But he's completely lost it. Covered himself in blood again, and when he ran out of skin, he started drawing on the walls of his cell. It's like finger-paintings from a horror movie in there."

Ruan winced in sympathy. The poor man had clearly lost touch with reality. He only hoped that the hospital could help him. "Has anyone told him about his sister taking the twins?"

Minnie shook her head. "Zola thought it would be best to wait until he was a bit calmer. You can be the bearer of bad news if you like."

"Gee, thanks," he grumbled, relieved as the door slid open with a ding. He allowed Minnie to shoulder the administrators to one side and followed quickly behind her. "That reminds me, how's Catlin?"

"On the mend. CT scans came back clear, so no brain damage," Minnie said. "But she's properly kicking herself for turning her back on Gelehrin."

Ruan was not surprised - Cat was just the kind to punish herself. She had two younger siblings in her custody and she would be inconsolable if they had been stolen from under her nose. "She knows it's not her fault, right? Gelehrin was clearly determined not to leave without them. In some ways Cat's probably lucky that a punch to the head was all she got."

"Yeah, about that," Minnie frowned. "According to the doctors, the only head trauma came from when she crashed on the floor. Seems Dean was right - whatever Gelehrin did to make her pass out, cold-clocking her wasn't it."

Ruan frowned. "Then how did she knock her out? Toxin?"

Minnie shook her head. "Nothing from the blood work. All the other tests came back clean - there's no medical reason why she should have fainted then and there."

"So Gelehrin didn't assault her? She just got lucky?" Ruan did not believe that for a second - nobody got that lucky in this business - and from the look on Minnie's face, she did not believe it either.

"It's a mystery," the woman said, turning off the corridor towards IT. "I'm going to get a new dictaphone. Meet you at holding in ten?"

"Got it," he nodded, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and continuing onto Abductions. He needed more sleep. His brain was still not engaged - the cogs felt rusty and underused, something he had never experienced at work before.

Deep in his core, he knew he felt hurt and embarrassed. He had spent all week complaining about the Shadowchasers, and how hard it was to work with them butting in on his case. Ruan had lost track of the number of times the police had been kicked off their own crime scenes to allow the Shadowchasers to take over. He might not have minded handing the reins over so much – sometimes it was necessary, like when cases turned into hostage situations or terrorist attacks, and they had to pass it over to the Special Task Force. But the Shadowchasers were independent of the South African Police Service. They had no official recognition or backing. And most importantly, their entire attitude seemed deliberately designed to get on Ruan's nerves. Claiming that a crime was the result of magic? That they worked for a purpose that the police could never hope to understand? It was deeply insulting.

He had spent the last few weeks venting his frustration over an organisation that seemed determined to mock him and the rest of his colleagues. And Becky had sat there every day since she had arrived without a single word and let him complain. He was not proud of some of the things he said about the Shadowchasers when it all became too frustrating, and he was embarrassed to imagine the impression she must have got of him.

His one solace in this mess was that the rest of the family had been just as clueless about Becky's life as he had been. Except for Lihle, but that had not surprised him – Lihle knew everyone's secrets. Charles, Elize and Andi had known nothing – Becky had never shared details of her job with them, and was always evasive when questioned.

 _Well obviously,_ Ruan could not help but think. _How do you tell your parents you're a vigilante who investigates magic?_

Marina had made her position quite clear once they had reached hospital. Becky had saved her life. That was all that mattered to her. Ruan felt guilty – it should have been all that mattered to him as well. Marina was alive because Becky had reacted in time. That alone should have been enough to wipe away all his questions, all his feelings about her secrecy, and all his preconceived opinions of the Shadowchasers.

But it wasn't.

And he hated himself for it.

"Morning boss!" Harriet, headset on for the day, a takeaway coffee in one hand, was far more cheerful than anyone had a right to be, in Ruan's opinion. "Did you hear the news? Marko Vetenari is dead!"

Forgetting all about the lecture he was supposed to be giving her about gossiping, Ruan stared at her. "What?"

His comms officer smiled widely. "I know right? Everyone's talking about it. I talked to Dale - homicide fished him out of the lake in Zeekoevlei this morning. Body's been IDed - it's definitely him. Autopsy is still taking place, but they've already counted over fifty five stab wounds."

"Good riddance!" from the next desk Sipho was not even bothering to disguise his satisfaction. He'd lost a close friend to Marko barely a year ago. But Ruan had other more disturbing things on his mind.

"Did they say who got him?" he asked. Harriet shrugged.

"Nope – nobody knows, and frankly I don't think they care."

 _I care,_ Ruan thought, his whole body going cold. He did not know what Marko's movements had been after he had fled The Oracle, but it did not take a genius to work out where the Shadowchasers had gone. _Christ, Becky, what have you done?_

He felt light headed, and the lock seemed to shift in his vision before he finally got the key to slide in. Under the guise of kicking his bag under his desk, he leaned heavily on it and tried to gather himself.

 _No one can know,_ he realised. He had to talk to Becky himself. Family or not, if she was complicit in murder, he had to find out.

But later - Sven was knocking timidly on the doorframe.

"Coffee?" he placed the mug on the edge of the desk. It was thick and dark, and Ruan managed a knowing smile.

"That doesn't look like instant," he stated, sitting down heavily in his seat. Sven feigned sheepishness.

"Didn't think it would crack it this morning, so I broke into the upstairs boardroom and used the Nespresso machine. I _really_ hope Kloeter doesn't count the pods."

"I didn't hear that," Ruan assured him, taking a sip from the mug. It was warm and smooth and seemed to kick right in the centre of his brain. "Thanks Sven. Where's Thombi?"

"On her way in," Sven said. "She stayed at Newlands all yesterday to help set up the monitoring equipment – didn't clock off till midnight."

"Okay," Ruan took another fortifying sip of coffee. "Have you all been briefed on last night?"

"Yup. And we hope you don't mind but we took the liberty of starting checks ourselves," Sven said. "Harriet's been through all the reports and is liaising with the other teams for us, and Sipho and I have been going through all of the victims and witnesses for any links."

Ruan was relieved and touched at the pro-activeness of his team. "Fantastic. Anything?"

"Quite a bit actually," Sven admitted, pulling out his tablet. "Sipho's been looking into the victims, and I've had the witnesses - this is the list so far. Green ones checked out fine with CRC. Yellow ones have no official place of residence. Orange ones have forged IDs. Red ones have arrests or convictions."

He turned the tablet around and Ruan nearly spat out his coffee. Over half of the names checked so far were yellow, orange or red. "Jesus..."

"They're all minor things." Sven reported. "Noise. Traffic convictions. Public indecency. Drunkeness. There's one with a theft conviction, but that was a while ago. All of Marko's gang had major convictions, obviously, but they're on the victims list so Sipho's been digging into them."

Pulling his eyes from the list, Ruan stared again at his wall of victims, eyes snapping over each face to refresh himself. "No ID or proof of existence anywhere...they're all connected." He frowned. "But if this mysterious lack of ID and home is the thing connecting them, then why did our kidnapper leave all these people behind?"

"From what the statements say, Bastien Holst tried to tackle her after he got the lights back on," Sven explained. "That was when she disappeared. He just interrupted her before she could finish the job."

"So you think it's a woman then?" Ruan asked, catching his eye. His memories of the eyewitness statements were hazy, viewed on his phone in the middle of the hospital, but he remembered most of them being similarly vague. Nearly all of them had consistently described a figure around five five, cloaked in rags, but a few of them had claimed a female impression from stance and posture. Ruan was not certain how much credibility he could attach to that however – several of the eyewitnesses had also reported her turning the victims into balls of water.

 _Magic._ His sleep deprived brain whispered.

Sven shrugged. "I don't know, but I have to admit, everyone's started calling her a she, and it's sticking."

He glanced down at the screen. "This is only partially complete, obviously, so I can go through what we've got so far now, or if you wait half an hour we'll probably have full reports."

Ruan shook his head. "Let's save it until Thombi gets here, then you can go through it with both of us. I've got an interview I want to get out of the way first."

"Oh Gelehrin Duru's brother? The crazy guy?"

Ruan remembered Steve's snark the previous day in the observation room and glared. The word crazy was being flung around far too much right now. "That's not nice, Sven. He's getting shipped off to Valkenburg tomorrow."

Sven had the decency to blush. "Sorry. I'll go let Sipho know. Do you want me to text you when Thombi gets in?"

"Please." Getting to his feet, Ruan drained the rest of the coffee. Already he could feel the buzz starting to hum through his veins. "I won't be long."

He hoped. If Conall was as frantic as he had been yesterday the interview would probably be over in five minutes again.

He found Minnie waiting patiently at the lift, a new dictaphone in hand, her tablet resting in the crook of her elbow, eyes zipping back and forth as she read a report. She smiled as he approached.

"Heard about Marko," he said conversationally. She snorted, glancing up from her work.

"Yeah, so's everyone. They're passing round a bottle of wine in homicide."

"Seriously?" Ruan asked. Marko was no friend of anyone in the police, but that seemed in poor taste.

"Oh yeah – Malcolm has been keeping it in his desk since he took the top job just in case this day ever happened." Minnie chuckled. "If I didn't have to drive I'd sneak up for a glass myself."

"And nobody knows how it happened?" he asked. _I hope Becky was smart enough not to be caught._

"Not a clue," Minnie shrugged, as the elevator pinged to announce it's arrival. "His gang have scattered though. A few of the little fish were picked up this morning – stealing, GTA, stuff like that. The big ones...well..." She shot him a look and he nodded. The big ones were now joining his wall of victims.

 _How did they find Marko?_ He thought to himself. _And how did they take him down?_ Harriet had said that they had counted well over fifty stab wounds. A few well placed ones would have sufficed to take anyone down permanently - over fifty was the work of anger. _Did Becky want revenge for Lihle and Marina? Or did Bastien deliver those blows?_ The Shadowchaser always appeared level headed, but you did not turn to vigilantism unless you had some kind of chip on your shoulder.

There was a nervous energy in the corridors as both Ruan and Minnie made their way towards the interrogation rooms. Unlike the previous afternoon, there were no spectators this time - only the correctional staff standing guard outside the door. Ruan nodded to them before following Minnie into the observation room.

"Wow!" was all he could say as he looked through the one-way glass. Conall was back in the same seat as yesterday, still cuffed and dishevelled from a night in a cell. He was dangerously pale, and his fingers were crusted with blood where he had bit them open. The rest of it was smeared over his arms and face in glyphs and ciphers like some kind of abstract modern art display.

"That's nothing," Minnie shook her head, flicking through her iPad. "Scholtz took a snap of his cell just now when they were bringing him up. Looks like Conall had a busy night."

"Jesus!" In spite of the coffee, Ruan was not on top form yet, and the expletive escaped again along with his horror before he could stop them. He had seen cleaner back-alley stabbings than this. Every inch of the exposed concrete was decorated in blood. Expanding circles were drawn around the bed, each with lines of symbols between them like gateways to hell, while great twisting lines of arcane text swirled around the walls like a dancing snake. It occured to Ruan that coupled with the matching glyphs on Conall's body, it was like an insane form of camouflage.

"Has he been seen by a doctor?" he found himself asking. No doubt the sedatives were still in Conall's system, but from the way he seemed to sway in his seat, the detective suspected that he was getting dangerously hypovolemic too.

"Scholtz won't make the call," Minnie's scowl more than told the story of how she felt about this. "Keeps going on about civilians and security risks after what happened yesterday. I think he's paranoid about the internal investigation - it's still looking likely that it was one of his team that let Gelehrin slip in."

Ruan cursed under his breath. "I'll talk to him later. Conall's our only living connection to this case right now, and I have to make sure he stays that way."

"Okay," Minnie nodded, shutting off her iPad and tucking it under one arm. "Shall we?"

"Can you just observe? I'm going to try something." Ruan was thinking very quickly. "It's going to sound crazy, but just bear with me."

Minnie lifted an eyebrow at him. "How crazy? Speaking to him in Klingon crazy, or bashing him over the head with the chair crazy?"

Part of Ruan was amused that she felt the need to clarify, and another part was touched that she remembered he was a Trekkie. "Somewhere in between? Don't worry – I'm not going to hurt him." That might be other officer's style, but it had never been his. "As mad as it sounds, I'm going to try...appealing to him. A part of him at least."

"Appeal to what?" Minnie asked, her voice touched with a hint of disbelief. "Ruan, the guy's insane. And we have the psychiatric evaluation to prove it."

"I know," Ruan sighed. "Just trust me? Please? We've not got anything out of this guy, but I think this might work."

Minnie frowned sceptically. "What exactly _are_ you going to say to him?" she asked.

A small wriggle of discomfort appeared in Ruan's stomach. Was he really ready to do this? To put his reputation on the line? Everyone had heard about the Oracle last night, but nobody had yet confronted him on the detail most pertinent to him – either they didn't know or they were making sure to whisper when he wasn't looking. Either way, if he did this now, it would not take long for it to spread. "Very long story." He said. "It involves the Oracle last night."

That did not seem to reassure Minnie, but her eyes darted toward the interrogation room and resignation appeared on her face. Ruan was right – neither of them had had any success with Conall yet. She was willing to try anything. "Alright. You go. Steve's going to be down here in ten - we'll be right out here if you need us."

"Thanks." Ruan was pretty certain he would not need them. After the night he'd had, he could handle any insanity that came out of Conall's mouth. Still, he took a deep fortifying breath, letting the buzz of caffeine fill his senses, before he let himself into the interrogation room.

Conall looked a little dazed, his head hanging between his shoulders as he leaned against the table. Large purple eyes blinked upward blearily, but he seemed to wake up somewhat as Ruan gave the dictaphone the date and timestamp.

"Where are the twins?" His forehead creased into a frown of anxiety, but there was no hysteria from the day before. It was all still being firmly smothered by the sedative. Ruan was relieved - he could handle crazy, but he did not think he had it in him to belt him to the chair again.

"I wish we knew," dropping the case file onto the desk he sat down heavily before his lead. "That's part of the reason I'm here today Conall. Your sister did come by yesterday, but not to talk to us. She broke into the station, assaulted the officer who was watching the twins, and removed them both from custody."

Conall blinked at him hard. For the first time since he had been arrested, a small amount of lucidity had returned to his eyes. "The twins are with Gelehrin?"

"...you understand how serious this is, right?" Ruan asked gently. He felt more awake now - far more coherent at least - as he fell into the familiar pattern of an interview. "I mean, I get it. I'm sure she had their best interests in mind, but the fact remains that she abducted them. You can't just take children out of protective custody. Social services have to get involved..."

He broke off as Conall burst into tears. Not the hysterics of yesterday, but quiet, heartbroken sobs. A little thrown by the sudden outburst, Ruan handed him a tissue from the box on auto-pilot.

"Are you worried they're not safe with your sister?" he asked, grimacing as Conall blew his nose painfully hard.

"No. She'd do anything for them…" the man's voice was thick, and tears continued to dribble down his cheeks, smearing their way through the bloody markings. "But she'll never leave home...she'll never leave the city." Something inside him seemed to crumble. "...they're as good as dead."

His shoulders hunched around his ears, heaving with heavy sobs.

"You said that yesterday," Ruan's eyes flicked down to the transcript on top of Conall's casefile. "You said the children weren't safe if they stayed in the city."

As if cued, somewhere outside the room, a door slammed heavily, and Conall nearly jumped out of his seat. His shackles rattled as he twisted, this way and that, trying to determine where the noise had come from. "She's coming for me…" The sobs disappeared, replaced with nervous shallow breaths as he scanned the room, his eyes clear and highly alert. "I know she is…"

Watching his head twitch around the room, now free of hysteria brought Ruan to a chilling realisation. Conall wasn't simply insane - he was out of his mind with fear. Whatever he knew about this witch was so terrifying that it had driven his behaviour into the extreme. He knew from reports and the previous day's interview that the man was afraid, but for the first time, with the screaming and thrashing removed, he finally saw it - registered it - for what it was.

"What makes you so sure?" he asked. "Do you know something about her? Or how she operates? Chooses her victims?" He cursed himself mentally - he hadn't meant to use that noun. Sven was right - they had no proof of ID, but the gender was starting to stick.

"I can't...I can't explain it," Conall was not looking at him - instead he was studying the air vent in the corner of the room as though he expected someone to burst through it (never mind the fact you could barely get a newborn through it let alone a full grown adult). "You wouldn't understand…it's too complicated."

"Well let me make it simple then." Taking a deep breath, Ruan decided to play his hand. With a very deliberate movement, he slid the dictaphone down the table, as though pushing it out of hearing range, and gently pretended to press the pause button. "Look, I know about magic," he said, discreetly turning the front of the dictaphone away so that Conall couldn't see the red light still recording. "My niece is a Shadowchaser."

There. He'd said it. For the first time outside of his own head, he'd admitted the startling news that had consumed him all night. He fancied that he could almost hear the intake of breath from behind the one-way glass. Attention hooked by this new development, Conall's attention swung away from his surroundings, and back to the detective, his supposed mortal danger suddenly forgotten.

"...you're serious?"

"As a heart attack," Ruan said. "Now granted, I only found out last night, and I haven't had time to get completely up to speed, but the point is, _I know_." He hoped that the emphasis was hard enough that Conall would not see through his bluff.

"You only found out yesterday?" Conall blinked, apparently surprised. "Wow...you're handling this very well."

That was not what Ruan had expected to hear. "Excuse me?"

"Well it's just...when most outsiders find out that their family members are part of this world, they usually feel betrayed...or they dismiss that family member as crazy. That's why we don't tend to have relationships outside our community. Gelehrin says it just ends in tears."

Ruan felt a squirm of discomfort in his belly - for a crazy man, Conall was hitting right on the mark. "Okay, yes, I feel a bit betrayed," he lied. "But I have a job to do - I can deal with my feelings later."

At the mention of the word 'job', Conall's eyes darted to the supposedly inactive dictaphone at the end of the table. "...so, your colleagues don't…?"

"Know?" Ruan finished off. "No, of course they don't. How on earth would I explain any of it?" _Please tell me? Give me an answer?_ he mentally begged, praying that Minnie was not about to drag him out of the interrogation to grill him on precisely that.

Conall shook his head, his face suddenly open with relief. "I know. No one at the university knows about me."

"Is that where you work?" Ruan asked. "We know your ID is fake."

"Well yeah - I can't exactly go around telling everyone I'm five hundred and eighty three," Conall pointed out. "They'll think I'm crazy."

 _God forbid..._ Ruan thought dryly to himself, vaguely wondering if Conall realised that he had just outright admitted to a serious crime. It made a bizarre sort of sense, actually. If all of these abducted people believed they were magical, then having fake IDs fit into the narrative. "Good thing you don't look over twenty five." He replied instead.

"Yeah...thank the Gods for strong elvish genes," Conall muttered.

 _Seriously?_ It took everything Ruan had not to roll his eyes and ruin his performance. Instead they darted to Conall's face. _If you're an elf, then I'm a Kuriboh zorbing across the Atlantic._ The only thing vaguely elf-like about this man was that his ears finished in a slight point at the top. Ruan could think of at least three people off the top of his head who had a similar shape, and one of them was upstairs drinking coffee and gossiping while doing the comms for his team. _Harriet's going to find this hilarious...or tell Thombi that she's a vampire because her teeth are slightly pointed._

"So since I know," he pressed. "There's no harm in telling me if you do know anything about the witch, because I'll believe you."

Lying really did not sit right with him. Fortunately he seemed to be getting away with it. Like flipping a switch, paranoia stole back over Conall's face again at the mention of the witch.

"I don't know much…" the man admitted, his gaze darting to the door and the ceiling vent again. "Only what I researched…"

"Tell me everything," Ruan made sure his voice was firm. Conall was pliant now - he had to direct him toward the answers he needed. The man swallowed thickly.

"I knew about the abductions before - I mean, I knew that people were disappearing. My niece, Stalatee, vanished a week ago and everyone assumed...well we assumed she'd been taken too," he admitted.

"Did you report it?" Ruan asked. Conall shook his head.

"Not to the police. Just the Shadowchasers." Once more Ruan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "They found no trace of her. Gelehrin was distraught. She's never liked the outside world, and this just seemed to justify her fears. She banned all of us from leaving the forest. Everyone just sat around looking helpless...it starts to get to you after a while." He admitted, shaking his head. "I took to my study, and started researching what I could - anything that might help."

"What sort of research?" Ruan asked, an idle image of Conall hunched over a computer editing Wikipedia articles filling his mind for some reason.

"Well my doctorate is in mythological history," Conall explained, catching Ruan by surprise and making him feel guilty for dismissing his abilities. Even mad people could be qualified. "So I started with the facts - the kidnappings, and what we knew of the methods so far - and then went back through my books to see if there had been any similar circumstances in history. And there were!"

"Really?" Ruan's attention was fully focused now. The police did not have the records or resources to go back any further than fifty years ago, and mythological history was not their area of expertise anyway - that was what the Occult unit were for. _Is it possible he actually found something?_

"Yes - it was all there. About the 17th century. I would have only been a child-"

 _Or he's crazy._ Ruan reminded himself, his enthusiasm beginning to wane.

"-but there they were. Dutch traders, slaves from Indonesia and the rest of Africa, and the local Bantu people - huge swaths of them were disappearing overnight. I dug deeper, and sure enough, all the names and descriptions matched Shadowkind from the area-"

"So you're saying they were all magical?" Ruan asked. "All these people who disappeared?" _Give me a break…_

"Every one of them!" There was a frenzy working its way into Conall's eyes. "Hundreds. I couldn't believe it."

"And did these...stories you found mention what happened to them?"

"There were rumours, certainly," Conall nodded. "About a God who walked the earth disguised as a shaman. He walked through villages and outposts...catching their spirits...stealing them away...sending them to their ancestors...devouring them. Who knows?"

"A shaman as in an inyanga? Or a sangoma?" Ruan asked. Maybe he should run this past the Occult unit when he was done. Conall shrugged.

"It didn't say. Honestly, it doesn't feel right, nor does it fit with any of their practices, so I don't think so. We'll probably never know, too. None of the victims could tell either."

Ruan felt his heart thud solidly in his chest. "They were found?" He asked.

"They came back," Conall corrected. "About six months after the disappearances began, they all came back at once. No one is sure how, but reports suggest that another shaman appeared, and banished the wicked God from the land. In doing so, all the victims were released."

Another door outside slammed, and Conall seemed to break out of his frenzy. Shaking his head he sighed. "I know, it's a little anecdotal-"

 _Oh yeah -_ that's _all that's wrong with that story_ , Ruan thought sarcastically.

"-but it fitted so well, I was sure I was on to something."

"Did you find anything else out?" Ruan asked. _Anything which might actually be helpful to me..._ he was disappointed when Conall shook his head.

"I was double checking a few sources when the Shadowchasers came to visit again - this was Tuesday morning," he sighed. "They told us they'd found Stalatee. She hadn't been kidnapped at all. She'd eloped."

Ruan was finding it very difficult not to laugh - after all of Conall's rantings about shamans and spirits, he could only imagine that such a mundane solution must have been terribly disappointing to him.

"We all relaxed a little bit - thought we were safe after all…" the other man shook his head. "For about an hour. And then the unicorns vanished."

"You mentioned that yesterday," Ruan remembered. He was surprised - Conall was definitely crazy, but he was also very consistent with his ramblings. "Twenty one unicorns, wasn't it?"

Conall nodded.

"And just to be clear, when you say unicorns, you mean…?"

"Magical horse with horns? Yes." Conall nodded again. "I couldn't believe it. I couldn't _understand_ it. Our bit of Newlands is protected, you see. We have all sorts of wards and enchantments to keep people out. The Shadowchasers keep pushing us to take them down - they say the forest is a World Heritage Site and that means we have no right to claim it as our own, in spite of the fact that we've been there for centuries-" He broke off shaking his head as he realised that he was rambling. "Anyway, it didn't make sense. How could someone slip past all of our protection and take twenty one unicorns out?"

"How indeed?" Ruan said in a mild voice. While part of him was relieved that at least the VTU had followed Gelehrin to the right place, he wondered why the conservancy had never reported that they had a group of squatters in the forest.

"Well, I thought about it, and there were only two explanations," Conall's voice was getting more and more rapid with each sentence. "Either this witch was more powerful than any of our spells. Or she has an insider - someone who took the enchantments down before letting her in." He shuddered. "The pattern was the same as the kidnappings back in the 1600s. A large group. Water being left behind at the scene. My research was correct. There was something evil stalking Cape Town. And now it was in our home!"

"Calm down," Ruan said gently. He did not want to have to sedate Conall again - he wasn't certain that the poor man would survive another dose. "Whatever it is, it's not here now."

"But it will be," Conall's eyes were welling up again. "It comes for Shadowkind. It took nearly the entire population last time. No spells can stop it." He glanced nervously at the dried blood painted up his arms. "These are all that I have, and I know they're not enough. I'm not safe here. We're not even safe in our own homes." He gave a huge sniff. "I never took Gelehrin seriously - not really - but now…"

 _But now it's closer to your children you do,_ Ruan thought to himself. He hoped that they got hold of Gelehrin soon - Zola was going to have a field day evaluating her state of mind. _A paranoid isolationist who keeps her family deep in a forest to protect them from the outside world._ He wondered how this family tied into the rest of the disappearances. Were there more families and communities like this? Living off the grid in isolated pockets of Cape Town? So afraid of outside authorities that they didn't report disappearances? And did the Shadowchasers protect them, or help enforce this isolation?

Too many questions - not enough answers.

"So you decided to leave?" he asked. Conall gave a few more sniffs to keep the tears at bay.

"I wasn't sure who to trust…" he said. "I started thinking...thinking any one of them could have let the witch in. Any one of them could put my children at risk. I couldn't stay there. I had to get them away. In the reports, the disappearances never got any further than Cape Town. If I'd just got them out of the city…"

He broke off unable to finish. He did not need too. Ruan knew what had happened next - he had jacked a car and tried to drive the kids as far away from the danger as he could.

That bugged Ruan immensely. Everything that Conall had said about magic was crazy. And yet, when you removed that element from the story, everything he had done prior to stealing the car was understandable - almost logical. When confronted with a danger he hadn't understood, he'd researched it to better prepare himself. When confronted with an enemy that had broken into his home, he had accurately rationalised that they had either overpowered their way in or had help from inside. And when faced with the prospect of his children being harmed, he had taken action to put as much distance between them and the danger as possible. Those weren't the actions of a madman. Everything up to that point was entirely rational and made sense to a normal person.

It was just that one nasty sticking point that made the entire thing unravel.

"All your research, Conall," he found himself asking. "Is it at the university?"

"No, at home in my study - I told you, Gelehrin wouldn't let any of us leave."

"Right, of course," Ruan smiled apologetically - he hadn't forgotten at all. "It might be useful for our investigation. If I could retrieve it from your home, I could also check on the twins while I'm there. Make sure they're okay?"

Crazy didn't necessarily mean stupid, as Conall demonstrated. "You're going to arrest Gelehrin, aren't you?"

"She did break the law," Ruan said patiently. "And assaulted one of our officers. Social services will make sure the children are safe."

"Will they get them out of the city?" A flicker of hope entered Conall's eyes. Ruan hated to crush it.

"I don't think so. They'll try and place them with a family member most likely. Do you have any other siblings? Maybe ones who don't live in the forest?" There was no way in hell social services would leave them with a group of squatters. To his surprise, Conall became animated again.

"Could they go to Stalatee? I don't know where she lives - the Shadowchasers wouldn't tell us - but she's not in the city any more, I know that. Please. They'd be safe with her-"

"I'll make sure they're aware of your preference," Ruan assured, privately hoping that his niece was more sane than the rest of her family seemed to be. "But to do this, I need to know how to find the twins first."

Conall could not talk fast enough. "There's one way in that you might be able to access. Take the Fernwood trail from behind UCT. Head for the second waterfall. If you go through the waterfall, there's a small hidden path through the rocks that will take you out to our trail. You follow that for about fifteen minutes and you're there. But there are a lot of spells on the trail - they're designed to turn you around without you noticing…" He paused, clearly thinking. "...I don't know how you'll get round those…"

"I'm sure we'll manage," Ruan said, confidently, getting to his feet and tucking his folder under his arm. "Thank you for your cooperation, Conall. I'll get the desk sergeant to take you back to your cell now. I'll get a doctor in to clean you up and check you over too - you've lost a lot of blood."

"No," Conall shook his head, panic re-entering his eyes. "I told you - they probably won't work, but they're all I have. They're my only defence-"

"You're safe. There's a station's worth of police with guns standing between you and whatever this thing is," Ruan sighed.

"Yeah, and _Gelehrin_ got past them," Conall said pointedly. Ruan gaped - he had no clever answer for that.

"...I'll let you know once I've seen the twins," he said, reaching for the dictaphone.

"Thank you," Conall sank heavily into his seat, apparently exhausted. "Thank you for understanding…" His eyes met Ruan's, tired but achingly honest. "I hope you can patch things up with your niece. Don't be too mad at her?"

Such an innocent hope punched Ruan right in the chest, and made him feel all the more guilty about what he had to do now.

"...interview terminated at twelve fifteen."

He flicked the dictaphone off, Conall's face flicking to confusion as he did.

"...I thought you switched it off?" he said. Ruan sighed.

"Yeah. I lied. Sorry." And he really meant it. Suddenly he found he could not look at the betrayal spreading across Conall's face, and he hurried out of the room before he could punish himself too much for it.

As he leaned against the closed door and heaved a huge sigh, Minnie came striding out of the observation room.

"Please tell me you got that?" Ruan asked, before his colleague could say anything. Behind her, Steve filed out of the doorway, watching Ruan with a strange expression on his face.

"Fernwood trail, behind the second waterfall," Minnie recited. "You're a bloody genius, Ruan. I'll scramble the team now."

She ran off down the corridor. Steve spared him one last curious look before following after his boss, leaving Ruan alone with his bruised integrity.

"I know that face," he was surprised to see Zola appear from the observation room, her own file of notes under one arm. "Don't beat yourself up about it, Ruan. You got more answers out of him in the last half an hour than any of us have got out of him in twenty four. I don't think any of us care that you had to trick him with the dictaphone to get there."

Ruan shook his head. "It's not just that. He seemed so...rational, Zo'." He shrugged. "He wasn't shouting or speaking in riddles. And if you take the magic out of it, everything he did - the research, worrying for his children - it all made sense. That's how a normal person would react in that situation."

Zola nodded. "True...I noticed that when I tried to evaluate him yesterday." She conceded, before adjusting her glasses. "But now think about what happened _after_ that. Even taking the magic out of it like you said, he still stole a car. He still drove dangerously and injured a lot of people. He still endangered the lives of his children. He's still self harming. Those are not the actions of a rational man. Being a danger to yourself and others is more than enough to recommend someone for psychiatric intervention...the delusions of magic and this weird cult mentality of his family just make me want to commit him for a bit longer."

"I know…" Ruan sighed. She was right, but it was hard to shake the feeling of guilt that had sprung up. Conall had put his trust in him and he had exploited him for answers. "I'm sorry. I know he needs help. I guess this whole magic thing has been popping up so much lately that I've been letting it get in the way."

"You had a rough night - it's understandable," Zola's gaze became shrewd. "...you weren't lying about your niece, were you?"

Something cold dropped into Ruan's stomach, and he shook his head slowly.

"How do you feel about that?"

"...I have no idea," he admitted. "It's mad...the whole thing is mad, Zo'. But...I can't do anything about it."

He shrugged a little helplessly. All the conflict that he had nursed all night came back, like an endless reel of video.

"Do you think she's dangerous?" Zola asked.

"...I don't think so. She's not a threat. But what they do...what they say they do…" He couldn't finish. She knew what he was saying. It was just words for now, but what happened when it became more? What if it already had? He remembered what Harriet had said about Marko's body, and repressed a shudder.

 _I have to talk to her._ He could not let it just be words. He had to know if she was a danger to them.

A hand squeezed his arm firmly.

"...if you need any help handling her, let me know." Zola's large dark eyes were compassionate behind her glasses. He managed a weak smile before she took herself off towards her own department, leaving him alone with his guilt, his worries, and only a brain fizzing with coffee to fight them with.

OOO

Bastien pushed his engine with a wince. He was far later than he had intended to be. Gelehrin would not be impressed, and neither would Thando.

Not that it was his fault. His usual entrance into Newlands Forest had been cordoned off by police, and bikes had been patrolling up and down Union Avenue. The only unguarded entrance suitable for his D-Wheel was on the corner of Thorn Street and Prospect Road, and the hidden road was so long and twisted that it had taken him twenty minutes to get to the large cluster of buildings that the elves lived in. He could see why Gelehrin was so keen to get the police off her back - you'd have thought that there had been a murder, and he wondered cynically if the police would be taking this quite so seriously if the kidnapping _hadn't_ happened inside their own building.

The forest was densely packed, and Bastien could identify most of the trees by name - wild peach, hard-pears, Cape beech and Breede yellowwoods, all reached for the sky, forming a thick green canopy above him. Birds fluttered here and there, and the entire place smelt of petrichor and fresh leaves, with a faint hint of woodsmoke in the distance - someone was having a campfire. He understood why the elves went to such extremes to stay hidden. If he lived in a forest like this, he'd never want to leave.

Nestled between the trees the community's houses were like small white square blocks dotted around, attached at corners, or by walkways. The buildings were single story to avoid showing up over the treeline, and the flat square roofs were blanketed in grass to better camouflage them from the air as well as keep the heat in. The elves respect for nature showed in their architecture, for not a single tree had been chopped down to provide space - the buildings had simply been built around them, giving rooms long strange shapes, like large tetris blocks. Some rooms boxed the trees in tiny courtyards from which trunk and branches sprouted up to the canopy.

Killing his engine, Bastien hurried across to the front door. The forest floor was soft under his feet, like walking over a firm mattress, and stepping over the threshold onto the hardwood floors of the entrance was like a hard bump back to reality. He tapped politely on the doorframe before removing his shoes. He was not surprised to get no answer, and led himself toward the living room.

The room was dimly lit - in spite of the full length windows, the trees blocked most of the daylight, and nobody had bothered to turn on the lights. The reason was obvious - the sofa seemed to have been turned into a blanket fort. Bastien could just about make out whispered conversation coming from within. On his immediate right, Gelehrin was hovering against the wall, sipping from a mug of tea. She looked even worse in person, and there was a faintly ripe smell that made him think she had not showered in a few days.

"...Heiko didn't want to leave his room," she explained in a low whisper. Bastien had not been certain that she had seen him - her eyes had never left the sofa. "So Thando suggested they build a fort for him to live in."

She rolled her eyes, clearly not understanding the train of thought. Bastien could not imagine Gelehrin as a child, let alone building her own bases out of furniture, and he resisted the urge to smile. She had probably spent most of the last hour trying to get her nephew to come out, and Thando had done it in two minutes.

"Is Celia in there too, or is it boys only?" he asked. Gelehrin shook her head, her frame of hair swinging around her face.

"He's spoken to Celia already. Goodness knows where she's run off to now." Setting the tea down on the end table, the elf rubbed hard at her temples, clearly warding off a headache.

"Well why don't I get your statement now? Then we can be out of your hair as fast as possible."

"Best idea I've heard all week," picking up her mug once more, Gelehrin set off for the hallway. "We can talk in the kitchen."

The kitchen's white marble and grey tiles were cold and uninviting - Bastien knew that this was the one that Gelehrin and her sister shared. Conall and the twins had their own kitchen on the other side of the house. He remembered that it was far more colourful and welcoming. He could not picture anyone having a cosy family dinner in this room.

"How soon can you get rid of the police?" Gelehrin asked, sitting herself down and steepling her fingers over the glass table. Bastien was pretty sure that she would not invite him to sit down, so he parked himself in a chair on the opposite side without being asked.

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "It depends how involved we have to get to persuade them to drop the charges. You didn't do yourself any favours by abducting the children-"

"I did not abduct them," Gelehrin was sharp. "I rescued them."

"-by abducting them from custody," Bastien continued, ignoring her correction. "This is precisely why we have procedures in place for Shadowkind minors. It's our job to keep them safe, Gelehrin."

"As is mine!" the elf snarled. "Don't tell me how to keep my niece and nephew safe, Bastien. My solemn duty is to protect everyone in this community from all threats. I was doing it when your ancestors first made port here, and I'll continue to do it long after you and all of your descendants have gone!"

"And you don't have to do it alone," Bastien cut through firmly. "That's what we're here for - to help keep you safe. But that means playing by the rulebook - ours and yes, occasionally the mundane police."

Gelehrin's lips were pressed so tightly together that they almost disappeared. Then she let out a heavy breath and seemed to slump back into her chair.

"I don't expect you to understand. You're too young. Things here used to be so much simpler. There was no papertrail to follow. No mundanes needing to be accountable to their laws." She shook her head, ruler-straight hair swinging in a curtain around her face. "Shadowkind can't keep up with that, and neither can the Shadowchasers. Sooner or later every community will be like us - hiding away from the mundanes and their tracking and their questions. I'm just trying to make sure we dig ourselves in as deep as possible before it all goes to hell."

It was a depressing picture, and Bastien did not like the way she said it with such certainty. She really had no faith in anyone but herself. It was no wonder she had taken it upon herself to take the twins back. "Just promise me next time that you'll call us first?"

"There won't _be_ a next time," Gelehrin stated, with absolute certainty. "They're not leaving the forest again!"

"You can't keep everyone here if they don't want to stay," Bastien pointed out, watching Gelehrin's eyes flash at what she perceived to be a challenge. "They don't all wind up like Conall or Stalatee...or Brearn."

It was like hitting a switch, the way Gelehrin's expression suddenly froze to a dangerous cold. "Wafer thin ice, Shadowchaser." And Bastien knew that now was the time to let it drop.

"Fine. Just think about what I've said." He pulled out his phone and found the recording app, wishing all too hard that he'd been able to interview one of the kids instead. "Are you ready to tell me what happened at the police station?"

From the expression on her face, Bastien suspected she would never be ready, but nonetheless she began. It really was astonishing just how deep you could infiltrate into a secured building with just a simple spell to deflect attention and a few magnetism spells to fool the electronics. She spoke without pause, not even when she described using magic on the custody officer.

"You put her to sleep?" Bastien dearly wanted to scream into a cushion. "That's not a point in your favour, Gelehrin."

"It didn't harm her!" Gelehrin retorted, holding both hands up in defence. "It was a low level spell - dreamless and barely lasts three minutes."

Bastien did not care how dreamless it was. It was too close to assault for his liking, and he made sure to note it down. "Did you have to do this to anyone else?"

"There was no one else," she assured him. "After her, I grabbed the twins and went back out the way I came. Same doors, same process. I got them into my car and drove straight home."

Making a mental note to have a word with Kloeter about Shadowkind infiltrations, Bastien added to his notes. "Were you pursued?"

"Yeah. They caught up to me on the N2...somewhere past Settlers Way I think...I don't know," she pressed her hands into her face, and from the pause, Bastien guessed that she was yawning. "I just kept going. Got off the N2, then onto the M3. They tried to run me off a few times, but I lost them once I made it to the closest gate. I haven't left the complex since."

Bastien nodded. "Okay. So for the record, I'm filing a cease and desist for the police, and an application for temporary custody of you niece and nephew. I will also have to file an incident report regarding your break in at the station, and the assault of an officer."

Gelehrin looked incredulous. "Are you seriously going to book me for that?"

Bastien knew it would be pointless to tell her that it was still wrong, no matter the circumstances. Gelehrin might have been eight hundred, but Thando wasn't wrong when he said she acted like a child sometimes. "Yes I am. I'm happy not to press the charges thanks to mitigating circumstances, so long as it doesn't happen again, but it will stay on your record." He tapped his pen against the top of his notepad. "Is there anything else?"

"No, I think that will be it." Gelehrin was rubbing at her forehead again, a heavy sigh slowly escaping her. Bastien's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"What about Conall?"

Gelehrin looked at him suspiciously. "What about Conall?"

"I can intervene on his behalf and have him released from Valkenburg," Bastien reminded her. "Given the circumstances I would highly recommend it."

"No, Conall stays," Gelehrin shook her head. "He's in no condition to come home."

"I don't think that's wise, Gelehrin," Bastien argued. "The risk of him compromising the masquerade-"

"What risk? The word of a man they know to be crazy? They'll never take him seriously," Gelehrin was dismissive. "He stole a car and put my niece and nephew in danger, Bastien. I don't want him back until his head is on straight again!"

"He's your brother."

"And I love him! But I can't help him here. We're not equipped to deal with something like that, and you know it."

That was true, and Bastien did know it. The elves had the ability to treat minor ailments, but nothing as severe as a complete mental breakdown. "Vuyo can make arrangements for him to receive Shadowkind help-"

It was like a trigger - a scoff burst out of Gelehrin's mouth, all traces of her previous exhaustion gone as she sneered across the table.

"Oh yes, I'm sure you'd all love that." She got to her feet, seizing her mug. "Have her gain Conall's trust and then use it to exploit all of us. Save your offer, Shadowchaser. Conall stays where he is, and we will stay where we are - safe!"

She stomped towards the sink and began rinsing her mug with more force than necessary. Bastien bit back his retort, though it hurt him to do so. She would never see reason where Vuyo was concerned. What puzzled him about all of this was that Thando had been right - she was writing Conall off very quickly.

"Everything okay?" Thando appeared in the doorway, and Bastien thanked every deity that he had not shown up ten seconds earlier.

"Fine. I think we're done here," he said, getting to his feet. "Are you all done with the twins?"

A smile crept across Thando's face. "I left Heiko in Fort Flying Underpants. He says it's boys only, unless aunt Gelehrin wants to bring him a juice box?"

"He can get it himself - I'm not his slave," Gelehrin declared, thumping the mug into the drying rack. Bastien caught Thando's gaze and rolled his eyes. Gelehrin was in no mood to be civil any longer, so they had best make the rest of their visit short.

"We'll make all the necessary arrangements, and get back to you as soon as we can." Privately, Bastien was not certain of Gelehrin's chances. She may have believed that she had the twin's best interests at heart, but it did not excuse how she had gone about it. Getting the police to back off would not be too hard, but he was not sure that social services would look kindly on what was essentially a kidnapping.

"Have you heard from Stalatee?" he almost did not recognise the voice. Gone was Gelehrin's irritable brashness. Instead she suddenly sounded smaller...more sad. It put Bastien's guard up - such a drastic one eighty of mood felt like a trap of some kind. "Is she safe?"

Both Shadowchasers exchanged a look. Thando looked just as uncomfortable as Bastien felt. "She's fine."

Gelehrin's head jerked in some form of acknowledgement, and she busied herself rinsing another mug. It struck Bastien that domesticity did not look natural on her. "...does she miss us? Does she want to come home?"

Thando shook his head. "No indication that she does." He paused, apparently uncertain of whether or not to continue. "...I'm sure this is hard for you to hear, but she's happy, Gelehrin."

The elf scoffed, but it was softer than before. "Happy. Sure…" She drew a deep breath, and Bastien was surprised to hear it wobble just a touch. The idea that her daughter could be happy anywhere but in the safety of the forest was clearly incomprehensible to her. He had never seen Gelehrin look this vulnerable.

"Will you be alright?" He found himself asking. "You have a lot to deal with right now with Stalatee and the unicorns. Taking on two more kids - especially with what they've been through-"

He was cut off with a look that could have lasered through steel - irritable Gelehrin was back. "They are my family, Shadowchaser. I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe."

She sounded so fierce that Bastien knew it would be foolish to argue with her, although he could not help but worry. He could not blame Gelehrin for wanting to keep her clan away from the outside world - South Africa did not have a safe history, and Gelehrin's family had often been on the worst end of it - but having the twins grow up in such an overly sheltered community would not help them adapt to the real world. Heck, after the last couple of days, they would probably be more fearful of it.

The nearest door was flung open in a hurry, revealing a room shrouded in darkness. Emerging from within in a fluffy white bathrobe and battered pair of Ugg boots was another elf, and Bastien did not need to look too hard tell that she was hungover.

"Morning Evie," Thando greeted, with a little too much cheer. Gelehrin's lips tightened at the dishevelled appearance of her younger sister.

"Go back to bed, Evie! If you throw up on my carpet, you're paying for it!"

"I knew you weren't listening to me!" Evangeline's voice was raw - if Bastien had to guess, from a combination of raving in a nightclub the previous night, and kneeling in front of the toilet that morning. "I told you to wake me as soon as they arrived! I have to show them the video!"

"They only just got here!" Gelehrin protested, her strained patience clearly struggling to deal with this latest intrusion to her already stressful morning.

"What video?" Thando addressed the question to the tail of Evie's dressing gown as she tore back into her bedroom, slamming the lights on with a fist and a painful cry of ' _Jesus-motherfucking-Christ!'_ as the light seared through her hangover. Clearly mortified, Gelehrin pressed her face into her hands.

"I saw something last night that you need to see!" stepping into the room after the voice, Bastien found Evie scrambling over her bedside table, her desk, and the top of her chest of drawers, clearly on the hunt for something. "I'm about ninety percent sure it was your witch. I videoed the whole thing."

"You saw the witch?" Bastien's heart was racing at the words. "Where? When?"

"Company's Garden," Evie said, turning her handbag upside down on her bed and rummaging through the contents. "I must have been on my way home - I don't know. It was pretty late. I don't remember walking there, but I remember being there, and I remember what I saw - _where the fuck is my fucking phone?!"_

"Calm down!" Gelehrin looked ready to slap her. Instead she adopted the voice of a stern parent. "You showed it to me earlier. It can't have gone far. Just take a deep breath, retrace your steps this morning, and please oh _please_ put some clothes on before you bend over again!"

"I've been hungover in bed!" Evie exclaimed. "The only steps I've taken today are between here and the bathroom!"

As she spoke she charged past them and darted into what Bastien assumed to be said bathroom. He tried hard not to smile - from the was Gelehrin was hiding her face in her hand, he guessed she would not appreciate it. A crash from the living room made them all jump.

"Aunt Gelehrin! My fort fell down!" Heiko's voice was full of the apprehension that all children had when they knew they were going to be in trouble.

"Give me strength…" Gelehrin muttered, marching off to inspect the damage, and leaving both Shadowchasers alone in the hallway. "Heiko! That was an expensive lamp!"

"I'm sorry!"

"No you're not sorry, or you would have been more careful! Go get a broom and clear this up before someone steps on it!"

Now it was Bastien's turn to rub his head. Thando's frown turned to an unconvincing smile as Heiko charged past. Fortunately, the boy did not even glance in their direction. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were shining as he ran to the small cupboard by the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The noise was punctuated by another smash and an angry curse from the living room - from the furious tone, Bastien suspected that Gelehrin had smashed the other lamp in rage.

"...okay, we can't leave the twins with her," Thando was careful to keep his voice down.

"I know. She's barely holding it together," discomfort was sitting heavy in Bastien's stomach as he said it. "And she is not being upfront with us at all - did she tell you that she put one of the police officers to sleep when she took the twins?"

Thando blinked. "No, she failed to mention that."

"I failed to mention what?" red-faced, Gelehrin re-appeared in the doorway, clearly fuming. "You know what?" She held up her hands as Thando opened his mouth ready to lie. "I don't even care. I want you both to leave. I have a mess to clean up."

Bastien frowned. "We still haven't seen Conall's research."

"Or Evie's video," Thando added.

"I don't care!" the woman snapped, brandishing a cushion at them both in an effort to shoo them towards the door. "I've had enough today! No more visitors! No more poking around my house or my family! I can't deal with this right now! Just go!"

Bastien was not sure he felt like pushing her - she would probably just bar them from the house and demand they come back with a search warrant just to make life difficult for them - but he was struck by a horrible feeling that if they left now, they would never get let back in. In the corner of his eye, Heiko emerged from the cupboard with the broom in hand, and scuttled nervously past his furious aunt with his head hung.

"Wait wait wait!" Evie tore out of her bedroom, the belt of her dressing gown trailing limply behind her. "Don't move! I can find it!"

"You're not finding anything until you put clothes on!" Gelehrin turned her fury on her sister.

"Oh bite me, Gelehrin!" Evie had thrown herself over the island counter, reaching for a small shelf on the other side. With a triumphant cry, she pulled a charging iPad out, yanking the chord free with a careless snap. "Gotcha!"

"What are you doing?" Her sister said sharply. "That's not your phone!"

"No, but my phone syncs every few hours with the cloud," Evie said, triumphantly swiping her finger across the screen.

"What does that even mean?" Gelehrin demanded, her voice full of exasperated despair. "What cloud?"

Bastien could not help but grin - it was like listening to his elderly grandfather trying to work out what those smiley faces on his phone meant. "It means her iPad now has a copy of the video too."

"And it's a bigger screen!" Thando was delighted. "Nice one, Evie."

Beaming at the praise, the elf tapped on the correct file with a flourish. Bastien noted the timestamp to be ten fifteen - barely minutes since the fiasco at The Oracle.

It was a very bad film. Even with a top of the line phone, the lighting was just too poor to make anything out. The pixels struggled to resolve, leaving great chunks of the screen patchworked in different shades of black. Something was clinking softly down the microphone.

"I was climbing the fence," Evie explained, seeing his puzzled look. "Fell off it too - great big graze on my shoulder-"

She stopped talking as the screen suddenly lit up with a sickly green glow. The pixels rippled into resolution as the scene was illuminated. Now Bastien recognised it as the Company Garden - Evie was peering between two bars of the wrought iron fence, into a corner of low bushes. Small shadows scampered around the grass, and Bastien knew the outline instantly - tokoloshe. A lot of them.

The magic radiated across the clearing from the grasping hand of the sea witch, who leaned down over her prey as though she had all the time in the world to determine her next move. The light cast a shadow on a terrified face beneath her, and Bastien felt some of the breath rush out of him.

He had never seen Rana look frightened.

His mind raced, wondering why on earth she was making no move to fight back. Then the shadows shifted under the magical light, revealing the shine of fresh blood and ragged edges of torn clothing. The wounds reminded him of the shredded paintings and spilled food in the Stone Cutters club room, and he knew that if he could see the tokoloshe properly, he would find their teeth and claws matted with blood.

The water bloomed around the succubus, making it impossible to see as the magic lit up the bubble and overexposed the camera, before cutting out entirely and plunging the garden back into darkness. It was impossible to see in the shade of the trees, but they did not need to. It was obvious that Rana was gone.

"Oh I was wrong - it only gets worse when you rewatch it." Evie declared, tearing her gaze away from the iPad with monumental effort and resting both elbows on the counter for support. Bastien understood - his eyes felt glued to the black screen, silently willing Rana to come back. By his side, Thando was muttering under his breath in his mother tongue, jabbing the screen furiously so that he could forward the video to Vuyo.

Serena and her mother on their own could have been random. But Bastien knew that Rana was not random. Two attacks hours apart from each other, on victims who had directly aided the investigation, both who were savaged by the tokoloshe first. This was targeted. It was personal.

It was a message to the Shadowchasers that send a horrible chill down Bastien's neck.

 _I'm watching you._

"Not much to go on, is it?" Gelehrin's tone was cynical, but the way she folded her arms and hunched her shoulders said that she was not as unaffected as she was pretending to be.

"Hey, I did the best I could!" Evie snapped, peevishly, taking her head off the counter long enough to see the looks on both Shadowchaser's faces. "Who was she? Did you know her?"

Bastien nodded faintly - a ringing had started in his ears. "Her name is Rana. She was helping us with the investigation…"

"Just like Serena," Thando had come to the same conclusion that he had. "She's targeting them."

Gelehrin's eyes snapped to him instantly, and Evie's already sick-looking face drained to a frightening shade of grey. "What does that mean?" the younger sister said. "Will she come after us now we've helped you?"

"No no!" Thando was quick to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly, although Bastien suspected that might have had more to do with how close she looked to throwing up again. "She's not omnipotent. Serena and Rana met us in public places - anyone could have seen it. But no one saw you take the video, so she has no way of knowing you've helped us. If she'd realised she was being filmed, she would have jumped on you then and there before you could spread it around."

The thought of being 'jumped on' by the tokoloshe made Bastien shudder. The little water spirits had just been annoying when Xicerine had first presented them on top of the mountain - maybe a little ridiculous. He had even chuckled at Thando's superstitious insistence of raising their beds by another few inches with bricks. Now, seeing the damage that they could inflict, he was sorry he had ever laughed.

There was a thud accompanied by a piercing shriek from the living room. Bastien felt his whole body jump in alarm, and Thando dropped the iPad hard on the counter cracking the corner of the screen.

"Aunt Gelehrin!" Heiko was shouting again - this time with urgent terror peppering his voice. "Celia cut her foot on the lamp!"

This time Gelehrin did snap, slamming both of her palms onto the countertop. "I swear to God-"

"Save the swearing, and get the first aid kit," Thando suggested, already following Evie to the living room door, doing his best not to tread on the trailing end of her dressing gown belt. Realising that his choices were to follow them or to be left with a furious Gelehrin, Bastien picked himself up and hurried hastily after them.

"There's blood!" Sitting in the ruins of his once proud fort, Heiko was holding his twin's shoulders awkwardly, his face pale at the splashes of crimson on the white carpet. Celia was curled around her foot, squeezing the injury with both hands as though hoping to keep the pain in, blood oozing out between her fingers. "There's a lot of blood!"

"Oh calm down - it's not a lot of blood," Evie, who Bastien suspected had done way worse to herself while clubbing, was completely unfazed, crouching down in the shards of lamp, and picking up her niece's injured limb. "Oh C, this is why we wear slippers - hey my phone!"

She yanked it from Celia's clenching fingers. Blood had smeared over the screen, distorting the colourful grid below. That explained it, Bastien thought. Celia had probably been so focused on Candy Crush that she hadn't noticed the broken lamp until she had stepped on it. Seeing Thando helpfully pick up the discarded broom and carrying on with the clean up, Bastien took it upon himself to pick Celia off the floor and set her down in one of the big armchairs. In the doorway, Gelehrin stood with the first aid kit, her face draining rapidly of colour at the sight of her niece.

"Do you need to lie down, Gelehrin?" Thando asked, leaning on the broom with a smile. Bastien could not help but feel that he was enjoying her discomfort a little too much.

"For heaven's sake! It's blood!" Impatient, Evie got to her feet and snatched the kit out of her sister's grasp. "It comes out of you once a month! Get over it!"

She stomped back to Celia and began pulling out bandages. "I think she'll need a stitch or two...can either of you do it?"

Gelehrin bolted from the room - apparently the thought of stitches was too much for her. Bastien caught Thando's eye guiltily - they had a fully stocked EMT kit, but it was back at the house. Sure enough, the ball of Celia's foot had two deep cuts, and it looked as though there was still a sliver of porcelain trapped in one. "Sorry Evie. You'll need to take her to the emergency room."

"No! Not hospital!" Celia howled, hot tears and snot dribbling down her pink sweatshirt. "They'll arrest us again!"

"Don't be daft," Evie said, pressing two bandage rolls on either side of the protruding shard of porcelain. "It's a hospital - nobody's going to arrest you. They'll fix your foot and we'll be home by dinner."

But Celia was shaking her head with the frantic conviction of a child who knew that the adults just did not understand. "No we won't! Aunt Gelehrin said if we leave the forest they'll get us again and take us away!"

"Well Aunt Gelehrin is stupid!" in spite of her hangover, Evie made sure to shout the last word so that her sister could hear it no matter where in the house she had run off to. "She can't sew your foot. I can't sew your foot. So we're going to hospital!"

"I want Dad!" Celia screamed wretchedly.

"Well your Dad is not here!" Evie was not shouting, but she had the same impatient firmness that all parents and guardians seemed to have, and it made Bastien feel better. Gelehrin might be barely holding it together, but Evie seemed to have the right temperament. "He's still in the police station. So we're taking you to hospital and that's that. They'll stitch you up. And then when we come home I'm putting you on a technology lockdown! No - I mean it!" she said, as Celia let out a wail at the injustice of it all. "I'm sick of this, C! You're obsessed with that stupid game. You don't listen to any of us. You don't watch where you're going, and now you're stealing my phone as soon as my back is turned-"

"I didn't steal it!" Celia shrieked, with surprising force. "It was in Aunt Gelehrin's room! I found it!"

"You're lying." Evie gave her a stern look that was also terribly disappointed. "I haven't been in Gelehrin's room at all today. Phones don't sprout legs and walk off on their own, Celia."

"I'm not lying!" Celia's voice finally cracked from the strain, and she dropped back in a normal register. "It was in the top drawer of her bedside table! I was looking for the key to Dad's study - it wasn't in the drawer but your phone was, so I took it."

Something detonated deep in Bastien's head, and his entire world seemed to plunge into terrible silence. He caught Thando's eye, the same look on his own face - understanding, confusion and then blind panic as they both came to the same conclusion. He leaped up from the floor so fast that he nearly bowled Evie over, and ran for the door. Thando was right behind him, thrusting the broom to the floor as though he'd just seen a spider crawling up it, and tearing after him through the house.

The kitchen was empty, and there was no movement through the open bedroom doors. Heart sinking, Bastien charged through the kitchen and into the conservatory. The back door was wide open revealing the gravel driveway outside. He was relieved to see the small boxy car parked by the wall.

"Her car's still here."

But Thando had seen what he had not, pointing to the scuffed lines in the gravel. "Evie's isn't. She must have known she wouldn't get far in her own car."

"What the hell is going on?" They rounded to find Evie stood behind them, arms folded expectantly. "What are you doing out here - and where the bloody hell is my car?!" she exploded, finally noticing the missing gap in the driveway.

"You didn't lose your phone, Evie," Thando explained grimly, as Bastien pulled out his own phone and began texting Vuyo. "Gelehrin stole it - probably right after you showed her the video. She was trying to hide it from us."

Bastien was thinking quickly. "She'll only be able to get out of the forest on Prospect Road. That'll take her at least twenty minutes."

Thando nodded. "Then she'll try and ditch the car - she knows we'll update the police that she's switched vehicles."

Bastien agreed - he was already typing a fresh text to Kloeter advising him of just that.

"This doesn't make sense." Hands still on hips, Evie was clearly not on the same wavelength. "Why would she try to hide the video? She knows nothing about this."

"Does she?" Thando asked pointedly. "Why else would she hide your phone where no one would find it? At best she knows something about the witch, and the kidnappings, at worst she _is_ the witch."

Bastien felt a finger of cold drag down his spine as Thando put into words the horrible thought that had consumed them since Celia's revelation.

Evie gaped at the accusation before shaking her head. "She can't be the witch. She was with me and Conall when the unicorns disappeared - she was ranting and raving about Stalatee running away, and we were trying to calm her down. She only stopped when the twins came in and told us the herd had vanished."

In spite of the alibi she still looked unnerved, and Bastien knew that doubt was still wriggling away in her head right next to her hangover. She didn't want to believe that her sister could be involved, but Bastien was sure of it. Locking away Evie's phone. Making no attempt to fetch her sister or even mention what she'd found to them when they'd arrived. The way she'd tried to usher him and Thando out of the house before Evie could find her phone. How she'd reacted when Evie had revealed that her iPad had a copy. The way she'd frozen when she'd seen Celia - not out of shock from all the blood, but because she'd seen the incriminating device clutched in her hand. Hell, even before they'd arrived, she'd done her best to dissuade them from visiting - asking if they could interview the kids on the phone. She'd covered it up too well for it to be anything else.

Only the cloud and Celia's love of Candy Crush had caused the whole thing to unravel. Gelehrin knew about the witch, and the kidnappings...maybe was even complicit…

He'd seen the look on Evie's face a thousand times - when good people came to the horrible realisation that their relatives were not as innocent as they had thought. Evie looked lost as everything she believed began to shatter to pieces around her. He wanted to say something to make her feel better, but he knew there was nothing that could pull her through this.

Abruptly he snapped out of his thoughts as Thando seized his wrist. "Conall."

"What?" Bastien was not certain why Thando looked as though he'd seen a fleet of tokoloshe through the conservatory glass, but it made his blood run cold to see it.

"Gelehrin hid the phone as soon as Evie showed her the video," Thando said. "What else did she try to hide as soon as she knew we were coming?"

He didn't need to explain - as soon as he said it, Bastien knew what he was thinking. Ignoring Evie, both men turned and ran back into the house.

The twins were where they had left them, with Heiko pressing two rolls of bandage around the wound with one hand and wrapping a third bandage around them with the other. He squeaked in alarm as the two Shadowchasers raced past him into the corridor that divided both sides of the house.

"Heiko, which of these rooms is your Dad's study?" Bastien yanked the first one open only to find a linen cupboard, while Thando found only the boiler behind the one on the opposite side.

"Second on the right - it's locked!" Heiko protested as Thando twisted the handle violently and was rewarded with nothing. "Gelehrin has the key in her room."

"No she doesn't! I told you - it wasn't there!" Celia sounded very upset that nobody was paying her any attention any more, and she shrieked in alarm as Bastien shoulder charged the door. It jerked in it's frame but did not budge, and pain radiated down his arm.

"For goodness sake - this isn't an action movie!" Evie stormed back into the room with a face like thunder, but neither Shadowchaser paid attention. Pushing Bastien aside, Thando pulled a small wire-bound vial out of his pocket. Bastien recognised it instantly - another of Vuyo's tricks-in-a-jar.

"You need to take Celia to hospital, Evie." He said, as Thando began shaking the vial violently in both hands. The mixture inside began to fizz and bubble.

"What the hell is going on, Bastien?" Evie was clearly done with running all over her house with a hangover, for she marched right up to him and stared him down. "Why would Gelehrin be involved with the kidnappings? She's not that sort of person."

Bastien did not answer - he doubted that he could. Only Gelehrin knew that, and she was probably not going to tell. By his side, Thando wrapped the wire around the handle of the door and left the vial hanging there, level with the lock. "Cover your ears." He suggested, both men backing away five paces.

Loitering curiously at the end of the corridor, Heiko obeyed immediately. Behind him Celia was straining from her perch on the armchair to see what was going on. Evie's eyes darted between Bastien, Thando, and the lock in confusion, clapping her hands around her head a second before the vial burst with a powerful bang. Acrid smoke drifted from the broken glass. The lock was still in one piece, but the wood around it had been blasted clean off, making it functionally useless.

"Cool!" for the first time that morning, Heiko was beaming, and Bastien could not help but smile in relief as he pushed the door firmly open.

Behind him, Evie gasped, and the twins let out a cry of despair.

The room was a mess, and Bastien knew at once that this was not the careful organised mess of a professional who was too busy to file things. The huge bookshelves that lined the left wall had been swept clean, lever arch files, and presentation folders opened, abandoned and trodden into the carpet. On the large mahogany desk, a neat stack of folders had been ripped open, and several leads lay abandoned on the surface, a strange imitation of police tape outlining the machinery that usually sat there.

"Laptop's gone," Thando said, already stepping over the mess to check the windows.

"Jesus...Conall's going to _flip_ ," Evie hissed through her teeth, her face warping to dismay as she found her brother's doctorate on the floor, the glass frame shattered into pieces. Even as the window slid open beneath Thando's grip, Bastien knew he was not looking at another tokoloshe invasion - nothing was ripped or damaged with the same frenzy. This was more methodical - the work of someone who had known exactly what they needed to get rid of.

"Celia, was it like this when you left last night?" Bastien asked, picking up the nearest folder and peering at the title on the spine.

"No - it never looks like this!" hopping on her good foot and leaning against her brother for support, Celia was not looking at him. Instead her eyes were scanning the bookshelves, new fear creeping into her expression. Heiko wore the same look - the painful realisation that not even their home was safe.

"Why would anyone want Conall's research?" Evie asked, but there was a defensive edge to her voice that told Bastien that she was catching up fast - even she could not ignore the fact that Gelehrin had the only key into this room. "It's just history...nothing to do with this witch or the kidnappings."

"Can you see anything missing?" Thando asked, pulling the drawers open one by one - all of them were messy, but Bastien was having a hard time telling if this was normal mess, or if someone had rifled through them.

"Yes - all those folders had papers inside them!" Celia pointed at the desk. "So did those ones...and that one." Her hand moved around the room. "Someone's taken all of Dad's papers!"

 _Not taken,_ Bastien already knew, reaching under the desk for the wastepaper basket, containing only a handful of energy bar wrappers and a tissue. He pulled the shredder open, only to find it empty.

"Where are your bins?" he asked. Heiko opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by a set of firm knocks from the other side of the house.

"Oh for fuck's sake! Now what?!" barging past the children, Evie stomped out of the room with a face like thunder. Shooting Bastien a nervous look, Thando followed her.

"Where's Aunt Gelehrin?" Celia asked, nervously. She was still squeezing her foot as though she expected it to fall off, in spite of the neat bandaging work her brother had done.

"Where are your bins, Heiko?" Bastien repeated.

"They're round the back by the driveway," the boy said, pointing back towards his aunt's side of the house.

"Okay, get your shoes on, and grab a pair for your sister - your aunt is taking you to hospital." Bastien was already pulling out his phone to text Vuyo with an update. Predictably, Celia started to cry again, and Heiko finally pushed his bewilderment aside enough to scrape together a stubborn determination.

"Aunt Gelehrin said there were police outside the forest - what if they arrest us again?" he asked.

"No one is going to arrest you - I'll make sure of it."

Whatever concerns Heiko still had were interrupted by Evie's loud shout, laced with terror.

"How the fuck did you find us?! This forest is protected!"

Bastien froze. Behind him, Heiko drew a sharp breath, and Celia began whispering frantically under her breath. " _No no no no no no…"_ Heavy boots were stomping through the house, and Bastien felt incredulous as the small unit of armed police appeared in the kitchen doorway. _You have_ got _to be kidding me!_

"That's the other one," the formidable looking woman declared, two officers obediently breaking away from the crowd. "Bastien Holst, you're under arrest."

"Oh come on!" Bastien was already hitting the number five on his speed dial as the two officers bore down on him. Celia began to cry again, her voice high and terrified, while Heiko backed her up into the corner of the room protectively. "On what possible charges?"

"Accessory to kidnapping." Neither officer was gentle and Bastien winced as he felt both his wrists being wrenched back, and his phone falling out of his grasp.

"He didn't kidnap us! He had nothing to do with it!" Heiko shouted. "He's one of the good guys - let him go!" His little voice was defiant but Bastien could see his jaw trembling out of the corner of his eye.

"Leave it Heiko. We'll be fine." Bastien tuned out the look of betrayal on the little boy's face, along with the sounds of Celia crying. He even ignored the sounds of Thando being forcibly restrained in the next room, and Evie shouting furious insults. All he could focus on was the faint smell of campfire smoke that was drifting in through the open window from the forest outside.

 _Not a campfire._ He thought distantly. _A bonfire._

He knew where Conall's research was.

* * *

 **A/N:** Four months later, and I'm still alive. Apologies for the delay - frankly between Christmas, being busy at work and both me and 7th Librarian coming down with flu together, I haven't wanted to touch any of my writing. But Camp Nanowrimo calls once again, and so I must get back at it. I figure 16,000 words makes up for my absence, don't you?

Also I've heard that reviews are great for lingering chest infections... _nudge nudge._


	10. Notice

**Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 10: Notice**

Custody was so boring, Bastien thought, his leg twitching against his chair. _Why do criminals do this?_ He had never been arrested before, and already he was promising never to let it happen again. Feeling fatigue creep up his throat, he yawned widely, not bothering to cover his mouth - he had just found a position for his hands that did not make the cuffs dig into his wrists, and he wasn't about to lose it for politeness sake. The people on the other side of the one-way glass would just have to stare down his throat. He did not need to guess who they were. _Enjoy the show, detective. We won't be here long._

At least, he hoped they wouldn't. It had been two hours since they had all been bundled into the back of seperate police cars. Thando had been sporting a fresh bruise on his forehead, and Evie had still only been wearing her dressing gown and Ugg boots. He had no idea what had happened to the twins - presumably social services were placing them with a foster family. As for the rest of the Newlands community, no doubt they were all being given their marching orders, though he did smile at the headache that the settlement was probably causing the police. It was one thing to evict an impoverished family of six, bring a bulldozer into a township and level their tin shack, quite another to demolish thirty well constructed homes in the middle of a World Heritage Site. Not that it mattered - the elves would just close all of the access paths and double their wards. By the end of the day, the settlement would have vanished as if it had never been there, and Bastien was a little disappointed that he wouldn't be able to see the look on the officers faces when they realised that they couldn't find the place again.

His leg continued to jump beneath the table. _Come on Kloeter. I've got places to be._ He knew that the wheels were turning - speed dial five on his phone sent automated text alerts to a short list of contacts in his phone, including the Cape Town commissioner, HQ in London, the other Shadowchasers in South Africa, and Vuyo - but every second that passed in here was a second lost out there. Gelehrin could have easily ditched the car and already be making her way out of the city. The remains of Conall's research could be crumbling into ash. The police might have contrived some reason to arrest Becky too. The tokoloshe might have gone back for Serena. More people could have been taken by the sea witch - they were supposed to have done their check-in calls half an hour ago.

The list was endless.

His patience was not. His leg bounced to the rhythm of the clock as more questions filled the boredom. Why had the witch switched up her MO for Serena and Rana? How was Gelehrin connected to all of this? What had Conall discovered that had forced Gelehrin to burn his research out in the forest? It frustrated him to know that the man was probably down the corridor in this custody suite and he couldn't just march down there and get straight answers out of him. And he had no hope of figuring it out on his own. His specialty was geology not mythological history - if you could call hiking around Table Mountain with Thera picking up good-looking pieces of rock a specialty, and he'd not done it since she'd died.

 _What did he find? More kidnappings from centuries ago? A description of some ancient Shadowkind witch?_ They needed that research. He could only hope that Gelehrin hadn't destroyed it as thoroughly as she'd thought.

The door opened, and Ruan Nkhosi strode in. His eyebrows were narrow and drawn, and there was a tense sharpness to his pace. The professional mask twitched as he caught sight of the Shadowchaser enough for Bastien to see the deep set loathing underneath. _Wow, he really hates me..._ He wondered how much of that was from their previous run-ins at his crime scenes, and how much of it was solely generated by the events of the previous night.

"Interview commencing at two thirty two. Mr Holst has been advised of the charges and his rights."

In spite of their numerous run-ins, Bastien had never been interrogated before - Thando had managed to be arrested twice already, making this the hat-trick, and his only advice had been to say as little as possible and not to piss anyone off. _Difficult since I seem to piss him off by existing._ Bastien opted instead to sigh in a sad fashion.

If Ruan noticed it, he didn't let it bother him. "These are serious charges, Bastien. Accessory to kidnapping of two minors. Aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive. Perverting the course of justice - that one's my favourite. That list is only going to get longer - believe me, we've been waiting a long time to write it."

In spite of his words, he did not sound all that gleeful, and Bastien wondered how many cups of coffee he'd made his way through today. He had the stubborn determination of someone who just wanted to get to the bottom of this one way or another. _If you'd just done what we said and let us get on with this case alone, you could probably have had your wish by now,_ he thought bitterly. He had both Shadowchasers on the accessory and aiding charges - they had been caught at the scene. The only reason for this interrogation right now was because he was fishing for more crimes he could hold against them. _Incitement to commit crime. Child endangerment. Or ways to hold the Shadowchasers for corruption..._ he was definitely creative enough to come up with more.

Ruan made a show of paging through the papers, then slapped them down with definitive finality as he leaned forwards over the table. "Of course, I'm sure you have a good explanation for all of these, right? What are we going for today? We've had magic and witches...what about elves?"

 _Oh great...Conall's been spilling his guts._ It took most of Bastien's effort not to sigh. _So that's how they found the complex. What on earth was he thinking?_ In one move, the elf had risked compromising the masquerade to the entire South African Police Service.

"Does Kloeter believe in this stuff?" the casual change in Ruan's tone almost threw Bastien. It was almost conversational. "Is that the hold you have over him? Let me guess - you convinced him he's a dragon, and that's why he hasn't quit smoking yet?"

Bastien could not help but snicker at that - the commissioner was notorious for walking around with his vape pipe permanently stuck in his mouth, and now that he thought about it, the resemblance was uncanny.

"That's what you do, isn't it?" the detective leaned over the desk. "You and the rest of the Shadowchasers walk around crime scenes, shouting about monsters, and you persuade gullible people to go into hiding from the big scary world. Then you use political leverage to get law enforcement and government to look the other way."

It was a good theory, but Bastien could see the flaw. _To what end, detective?_ Ruan had nothing - he was goading him for information. Too bad for him that Bastien was not interested in indulging him. _Best to wait for the lawyers and Jalal to apply the right pressure so I can just walk out of here._ He went back to jiggling his foot.

"It's not a bad plan - unoriginal, but effective." Ruan was nodding. "Gives you a nice little network of vulnerable people to exploit. And they're all too scared to ever break away on their own." He tapped the folder thoughtfully. "So what happened? People start getting wise to you? Is that why you decided to invent a witch and stage all these kidnappings?"

It took all of Bastien's restraint not break his silence with a well placed ' _are you freaking kidding me?'_ and he settled instead for staring at Ruan in disbelief. _He cannot be serious!_

"What? You thought nobody would ever guess?" Ruan smiled, his face full of mock pity. "Did you think everyone else was as gullible as the Duru's? How else would you always seem to know about them right before us? Why else would you insist on poking the crime scenes, if not to cover up your tracks? Was that Thando dressed in costume at the Oracle last night?"

The image was so hilarious that Bastien could not help himself - he dissolved into a giggle fit, tears working their way into the corner of his eyes. As he wiped them away he could see a frown crossing Ruan's face. This was clearly far from the anxious tells he had been expecting. Regaining his breath, Bastien slumped back in his chair, the odd smirk still escaping him.

"...maybe you are just mad," Ruan eventually continued. Bastien was a little impressed - he clearly did not let surprises throw him for long. He flipped open the file and pulled out two A4 sheets. "Have a look at this."

He slid the photos over. All of Bastien's humour vanished in an instant. The first one was Conall, and for a second, he thought that the custody officers had been beating him up. Then he recognised the patterns painted all over his skin. _Protective wards._ His gaze flicked to the next photo - similar spells and enchantments had been painted over the walls in blood. _He needs a doctor._ He highly doubted that the station had bothered to call one - why would they care?

"That's Conall Duru," Ruan said, his voice stern. "He's been here for twenty four hours. We had to sedate him because he wouldn't stop hurting himself." He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "This is what your little ruse does to people - it makes them so paranoid that their minds break, and they start harming themselves and everyone around them." His eyes locked with Bastien. "Does that make you proud?"

Simmering with nerves, Bastien tore his eyes away, desperate to speak, to tell Ruan to get him medical help right away. But he held his tongue. _Come on Kloeter. Get us out of here…_

"You know something? I don't think it does," Ruan shook his head, taking his discomfort for guilt. "You don't do this for a sense of accomplishment. I think you do it because it makes you feel better. Manipulating all these people gives you a sense of control that you've been missing."

Something cold settled in Bastien's stomach, nagging him to keep his mouth shut.

"I've done my research on you and your little gang," Ruan swept a hand over the folder. "It's amazing how easy it is to push people to crime sometimes. All it takes is estrangement...or a family in prison…" He forced his gaze into Bastien's eyeline. "...or the death of a loved one."

 _Don't you dare,_ Bastien nearly growled it, but held himself back at the last minute. _Don't you dare bring her into this._

"It's no wonder you set schemes up like this," Ruan was shaking his head. "Making people scared. Making them feel like they're not in control of their lives - exactly like you felt all those years ago. It makes you feel like you're not alone if you can drag people down to your level. I wonder Bastien," he mused thoughtfully. "If these kidnappings don't keep your followers in line, will you start driving their wives off cliffs instead?"

The handcuffs rattled and bit deeply into Bastien's wrists as he threw himself out of the chair, the restraints stopping short before he could hit the table. "I never!"

"Well, literally no. But let's be honest, you might as well have," Ruan seemed completely unflustered by his furious prisoner half out of his chair and pulling so hard on his own restraints that it hurt. "Her family certainly thought so, didn't they? That's why they insisted so hard on a full inquest."

He steepled his fingers together and leaned forward across the table until he was only a few inches from Bastien. "I read all the statements. She was _miserable_. Everyone else saw it. So how did you not? How do you _not_ notice something like that in your own wife?"

"She was fine!"The words were automatic - given each time the police had asked during the inquest. But Bastien remembered the moment when the investigating officer had read those statements back to him, each more damning than the last, and the cold truth had dug itself deep into his soul. _She wasn't fine. And I missed it..._

"Fine people don't drop two stone in three months," Ruan was calm, but each word was like a hammer blow. "Fine people don't need prescriptions for antidepressants. They don't stay up until five am waiting for you, because you won't return their phone calls. They don't..." He flipped open the file, his eyes skimming down a report. "...oh yes, _cry like the world is ending_ , because they can't honestly say that they know what their husband does for a living."

He did not know what to say. There was nothing he could say that would justify it. So he just clenched his jaw against the well of self loathing that threatened to drown him.

"Or maybe you did notice and you just didn't care." Ruan shrugged, flipping the folder closed. "Maybe part of you was tired of her asking where you were going and what you were doing. Maybe you were sick of her prying, and not taking your word on faith, and part of you wanted her to do something drastic."

Through the rage and guilt, something clicked in Bastien's head, and he stopped pulling on his restraints. "So that's why."

The rolling confidence in Ruan's demeanor seemed to falter at the dramatic change in Bastien's attitude. "Why what?"

"Why this pointless interrogation." Bastien knew he should sit down - he should stop talking - he should not engage - but he felt like he was going to be sick, and the opportunity to take a shot back at Ruan was all too tempting. Besides, he had already ceased his silence, so why the hell not go for broke? "It's not about the kidnappings or the Duru's. You're not waiting for me to implicate myself further. You're trying to find out how far we'll go to keep our secret...tell me, detective - does Becky frighten you that much?"

It was like he'd smacked Ruan over the head with his own chair. He could see the detective trying to maintain his professional face, but all the coffee and experience in the world could not stop the verbal punch that hit him in the gut. _He hasn't thought this though. He can't even contemplate how to handle her after all this._ He felt a surge of vindictive pleasure at getting his own back.

Both men jumped as the door was thrust open, banging dramatically off the back wall as a tall black man in a suit strode in, swinging his briefcase in a dangerous looking manner. "Bastien, stop talking. Detective, I need to confer with my client, so this interrogation is over."

"Who the hell are you?" Ruan was clearly not ready for more surprises today, rounding away from the stranger, and back to Bastien. "When the hell did you have time to call a lawyer?"

Bastien did not answer. He should have been relieved to see Trevor - it meant freedom was five minutes away - but he could see the irritated expression on the lawyer's face, and he knew he was in trouble. He reeled in his urge to thump the detective, and settled for glaring at the floor.

There was another hard knock, this time from the other side of the one-way glass, and Ruan threw up his hands and shoved his chair back angrily. "Fine. Talk. I'll be back."

He seized the dictaphone and strode out of the room.

"No he won't," Trevor was nothing if not direct. He did not even bother to sit down. "That's Kloeter calling to rake him over the coals." He turned his attention back to Bastien, his expression disappointed and clearly ready to do his own raking. "What were you thinking, Bastien? You know what the protocol is."

Pressing his face into his hands, Bastien bit back his response, boiling with rage and sick with guilt at the same time. Ruan might have gone, but his words still lingered in the air, and they festered through his body.

"Alright, sulk if you want," Trevor was sighing as he pulled out his phone. "But I'm reporting this to Jalal, and don't think you'll get away with sulking to him."

He already knew he wouldn't. Dread rose in his mind like an ominous spectre, extinguishing the last of his anger, and he tried to pull himself together. "Is Thando okay?"

"Fine. The bruise on his head is superficial. Kloeter has agreed to make all the charges disappear, so I suggest you both go home. I understand that a Ms Duru was arrested with you both?"

It took Bastien a second to realise he was talking about Evie, and he nodded. "I don't know what happened to the twins-"

"I will find out. Leave them to me. Both of you need to go home and keep your heads down until this all blows over."

Bastien nodded, but deep down he knew there was no chance of them staying put. He was already channelling his anger into drive - to get to the bottom of this, to save everyone, and to get the police off their backs. He had to think of that.

...anything to not think about _her._

OOO

"-three rules! Give them access! Listen to them! Don't arrest them! How hard is that for you to follow?!"

"Forgive me, sir, but you never said 'don't arrest them'. You said 'don't punch them'," holding the phone a good three inches from his ear, Ruan aimed his words at the speaker, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. _How the hell did he find out?_

A glance across the room got him no answers from his colleagues. Thombi had rocked up to work half an hour ago and Ruan had asked her to join him for a fresh pair of eyes, but right now all she could provide him was a sympathetic expression. Minnie was sitting on the desk with her feet on a chair. She still wore her kevlar underneath her leather jacket, making her folded arms look awkward. He had experienced a huge rush of emotion when she had text him to say that they had been successful. Relief at finding the twins. Anger at Gelehrin for taking them. A little surprised that Conall's information had actually proved reliable. He had even expected the sting of disappointment when he heard that they had been through every house in the forest and realised that Gelehrin had slipped through their fingers not minutes before.

What he had not expected was the fresh stab of loathing that hit him as he had seen Bastien Holst being led from holding into the interrogation room. Cuffed and being pushed by the custody officers, he had walked casually as though he were being shown where the bathroom was. Most people on being dragged to interrogation could barely walk straight, their faces riddled with unease - certainly Evangeline Duru had looked exactly like that as she had been taken down the hall to cool off in a cell (not entirely surprising given her state of undress). Bastien on the other hand had possessed the bored look of someone who was finding this whole thing mildly inconvenient and had more important places to be. It was exactly like being back on a crime scene with him.

 _It's you._ Ruan threw a look over his shoulder into interrogation room two, where Bastien was talking to his lawyer. _You are the reason for Becky and this whole mess._

Which was completely irrational - Becky had clearly been a Shadowchaser long before she'd met Bastien. But Ruan was finding it impossible to shake the association off.

"Don't be a smartass, Ruan!" Kloeter snapped. "They were immune and you knew it! And now you're sitting there interrogating them like they're common criminals!"

"They are!" Ruan protested. "We have both of them as accessories to the Duru kidnapping!"

 _And if you weren't so keen to protect them, I'd have them on everything else too!_ It was not the first time he had been in trouble - in this country you were more likely to get shouted at for doing the right thing than doing the wrong thing - but something about Kloeter's fury this time was needling deep into the part of his brain that sorely needed coffee. He had done everything right in his pursuit to get to the bottom of this. They had found the twins, arrested the guilty parties, and he had been _this_ close to riling Bastien up enough to spill about the kidnappings, and perhaps even Marko's murder last night. _So why the hell am I the one getting chewed out?_

"I don't care!" The commissioner was so loud that Ruan moved the phone away by another inch. Minnie and Thombi swapped glances and took identical sips of their own coffee. Ruan wondered if they had a secret game running - take a drink each time Kloeter raises his voice. "I don't care where you have them or what you have them doing - immunity means you don't touch them! Do you have any idea what position you've put me in here?"

Ruan's ears were buzzing, and the words were out of his mouth before he could think about them. "No, I really don't know what position you're in with the Shadowchasers. Why don't you explain it to me?"

Thombi gasped so hard she snorted coffee out of her nose, while a wide-eyed Minnie mouthed ' _are you crazy?!'_ across the room.

"Careful Ruan." Kloeter was clearly still furious, but his anger had darkened into something more dangerous. "I like you, but I'm not above firing a man two days before his wedding!"

Somewhere through the haze of rage and coffee, Ruan remembered what was at stake - he could not afford to be out of a job now, especially not one that he had spent twenty years building up to. In his younger years he might have been inclined to stick to his guns, but it was not just about him any more. _I have a family to support - I can't take them down with me._

So he grit his teeth and took a deep breath, trying to crush the self loathing that he felt welling up inside. Before he could speak however, Minnie had crossed the room and yanked the phone out of his hand.

"Listen to me, Kloeter." Ruan swapped an astonished look with Thombi - they had never heard anyone address the commissioner as anything other than ' _sir'_. "I authorised that arrest, and I was the one who carried it out, so if you're going to make threats to anyone today it'll be me." Turning so that her hands were on her hips, she looked formidable in her armour and a face that was battle-ready. "Ruan might be cleaner than virgin snow, but we both know I have no morals, and more importantly, I have your wife's number on my speed dial. And I am _so_ not above telling her about your nine thousand rand fine or the reason for it if you don't drop this talk of firing us!"

There was a long pause on the phone. Ruan was gaping at Minnie, part of him desperate to see just what was going on behind her eyes. _What on earth did she find out?_ The rest of him was panicking. _She's blackmailing the commissioner right in front of me! For me!_ He'd always liked Minnie - she was a good friend to have - but part of him was appalled by such blatant abuse of power unfolding in front of him.

Smirking, Minnie removed the phone from her ear and pressed the speaker button. "There you go, sir." She was so polite that it was disconcerting.

"Good," far from his previous fury, Kloeter now sounded terribly anxious. "Look, I'm not firing anyone - you're all too good at what you do, and I can't afford to lose any of you right now. I just want this mess cleaned up. Release the Shadowchasers and find another line of enquiry to pursue."

"And if all lines lead back to the Shadowchasers anyway?" Thombi was the one brave enough to ask it.

"Then find something else that will stick. I have the board demanding answers and the press hounding me for a story - I need to tell them something!" Ruan could almost see the man pulling vape out of his pocket as they spoke, and he could barely hold his disgust in. Kloeter was willing to throw anyone under the bus so long as it wasn't the Shadowchasers.

"Fine. We'll continue tracking down Gelehrin Duru," Minnie said. "Who knows - maybe she'll turn out to be behind all of this?"

She did not sound sure, but some gear deep in Ruan's mind began to turn at her words. _Why would she go to the effort of abducting her niece and nephew to keep them safe, only to abandon them at the first sign of trouble?_

"Okay. Continue to share all your resources until this is resolved. For now, just get Bastien and Thando out of there, and stay the hell away from them, both!"

"Yes sir." Ruan could feel his jaw clenching as he spoke, but he thought of Marina and Violett again, and pushed through it. _I cannot afford to be out of a job now._

"Alright then - I'll be in touch early next week." He rang off with a mutter of " _Christ I need a fag."_

Learning back in his seat, Ruan pressed his hands against his face. His eyes were aching, and he was desperately craving more coffee. More than anything however, he was craving answers. Did Kloeter really expect them to just arrest anybody even when all evidence led them straight back to the Shadowchasers? The very idea was disturbing. A quick glance at Thombi showed that she was not feeling much happier about it. _Our first lead in weeks, shut down because Kloeter wants to protect the criminals._ In one move, their boss had put them back on square one. Where did they go from here? _What if we don't find Gelehrin? What if there are no more leads, and more people disappear?_

"...I hope he smokes himself into an early grave," Minnie was the first to speak, her voice bitter and cold.

"You shouldn't have done that, Minnie," Ruan said in a rush. He hadn't thought it was possible to upset him more than he already was, but with each passing second he could feel guilt eating away at him, which was not helped when Minnie shrugged.

"It was worth it - firing you would have been the stupidest decision he's ever made, and it's in nobody's interest to lose you now."

Deep in his discomfort, Ruan recognised just what she had done for him. She'd put her own neck on the line to keep him in his job, and he was grateful for it. "Thanks." _I wish you hadn't done it. But I'm grateful._ He only felt horribly guilty that he didn't have more to show for her trust in him.

"...we'd better let custody know they're being released," Thombi sighed heavily as she got to her feet. "Then see if we can find another lead."

The tone of her voice said it all - she knew there wasn't another lead, and Ruan knew it too. Peering over his shoulder into the other observation room, he could see Bastien still in his chair, head hung, fists clenched in his lap. The lawyer seemed to be giving him a good chewing out - probably for opening his mouth. It was the only consolation Ruan could find in this mess.

"If I'd just had five more minutes, I might have got something out of him…" he had practically felt the answers about to burst out of Bastien. "No word from the conservancy?" he asked. Minnie nodded.

"Yeah, but nothing useful. They in complete shock. They can't believe they had twenty nine houses in the middle of their forest and nobody noticed."

Thombi gave her a look. "You don't believe that, and neither do I. How do you build twenty nine homes - water, electricity, internet, the works - without anyone noticing? No, someone higher up was definitely being slipped something."

Ruan agreed, though the thought brought him no answers or peace. How on earth did these people have the resources to build something like that? Most of them were off the grid, just like Conall and his family. How did they get the money? How did they hire contractors to build out in the middle of the forest without filing any sort of paperwork? The other residents in the complex had been silent when questioned, and had accepted their impending eviction with a disinterested air as if there was no real threat to them - almost exactly like Bastien had been treating his arrest, now that he thought about it. _What is with these people? Are they so disassociated from the real world that they just think it can't touch them?_

"I guess it's worth following up," he said. As if they had a choice - it was the only lead they had left in this messy conspiracy. He could go and question Conall again, but he already knew he wouldn't get anything new out of him - his only motivation for telling them anything was the safety of his children, and Ruan had already burned that bridge when he'd revealed that he'd lied to him.

There was a frantic knock at the door, and Sven practically shoulder charged the door in a hurry to get in.

"Sorry!" he was out of breath, and hand hands were shaking as he raised his tablet. "You all need to see this. Scholtz's team just pulled it off Bastien's phone."

"Who authorised that?" Ruan demanded. There was no way that a search warrant would have been authorised that fast - it had been barely two hours since they'd brought the Shadowchasers in.

"Uh, he said he was authorising it himself on the grounds of them being a pain in the ass," Sven admitted. He took a nervous step back at the fury on Ruan's face. First Minnie, and now Scholtz? The little part of him that took pride in doing the right thing was chafing like all his colleagues were rubbing sandpaper against his brain.

"Well now that he's got it we might as well…." perhaps seeing how upset he looked, Minnie reached over and took the tablet from the junior officer, flicking it on in two seconds.

The video was dark, but the audio was clear - the user panting softly as they strained, clothes rustling and shoes scuffing. It took a few seconds before a greenish haze spread across the screen, and illuminated the dark secluded garden.

In a horrible moment, Ruan was back in homicide. Dark secluded areas meant only one thing - a dead body. It took a second for the struggling camera to focus, but when it did, Ruan felt his heart sink - he hated being right. Almost on autopilot, his brain began cataloguing all of his first impressions from the blurry image for examination later. _Adult female. Fifteen...no, sixteen slash wounds - knife maybe? Clothes are torn. She's definitely been raped. Out clubbing and someone followed her perhaps?_ He nearly fell off his seat as the camera picked up a slow, dazed blink. _Jesus, she's still alive..._

He was relieved when Minnie hit pause. "Do we know where this was?"

"Company's Garden," Sven was hovering nervously as though expecting the tablet to explode, and Ruan felt his heart sink. He clearly hadn't run all this way to show them a run-of-the-mill assault, which meant that there was worse to come. "Last night at ten fifteen. We haven't IDed the victim."

He reached over their shoulders and pressed play, unable or unwilling to elaborate further. The unseen source of light seemed to move, blazing across the clearing and throwing odd shadows across the bushes and trees. Ruan felt his eyes pulled to the left of the screen, and he struggled not to gasp.

 _A witch._

It had to be - it matched every description from the Oracle. The light seemed to emanate from her clenched fist - _a torch maybe?_ \- and her body was draped in thick ragged ropes - _seaweed_ he remembered the descriptions saying. It was impossible to see a face or any other defining features, but as she loomed over her victim, Ruan felt something cold settle in his stomach. He knew that stance in a thousand small little ways for what it was. It was the look of a monster, enjoying their victim.

Light flared brightly through the clearing, and Ruan fought not to cover his eyes, instinctively knowing that he could not miss what happened next. Behind him, he felt Thombi's intake of breath, and Minnie nearly dropped the tablet.

"What the hell?"

Their victim was encased in what looked like a glistening amniotic sac. Ripples shimmered over the surface, glittering off the light in the witch's outstretched hand. It looked to Ruan's eyes as though she were commanding it.

 _That's not possible. You can't command water..._

The watery prison seemed to shrivel in on itself, as the light flared brighter and brighter before distorting the image completely. Squinting, Ruan desperately sought the figure through the glare, but when it faded away, the clearing was dark once more, leaving only the videographer's frightened breathing. The recording cut off five seconds later.

For a long while, nobody moved. Ruan felt strangely disconnected from the rest of the room, his mind playing the video over and over again, looking for anything he might have missed.

"...what did we just see?" Minnie seemed to have lost ninety percent of her voice. On his other side, Ruan felt Thombi crossing herself. He was sorely tempted to join in in spite of his atheism. The whole thing was so unnatural that it repelled him.

"That was our witch wasn't it?" Sven was somewhat less affected - presumably having watched it once already - and clearly he had already processed it enough to be able to formulate questions.

It was like a breath of fresh air went through the room - the absurdity of Sven's question seemed to loosen the claws of creeping dread that had crawled up Ruan's spine at the sight of the victim. His brain seemed to jump back into life, slotting bits of information into rational order. Out the corner of his eye he could see Thombi shaking her head as the same process began with her.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sven. There's no such thing as witches," Minnie rolled her eyes, her skepticism the first part of her voice to recover. "Someone's having us on here."

"...why?" Sven asked and a thick silence blanketed the room once more. Ruan could feel possibilities appearing and disappearing like flickering lightbulbs, and he mentally forced them all off.

"We can't speculate - we need more information." Quickly forwarding the video to himself and Thombi, he passed the iPad back to his junior officer. "Get this up to cyber, and ask them to run a diagnostic - we're looking for edits or alterations. And get them to check the source data - I want to know exactly where this came from." He could see Evangeline Duru's name listed as the file's author - she must have sent it to Bastien - but he didn't think for a moment that this file was untouched.

Sven scampered out of the room, clutching his iPad to his chest looking for all the world like a guilty teenage boy trying to hide his porn stash.

"This feels too convenient," Thombi still looked a little unnerved, but it was a mark of her skill as an officer that she was not letting it run away with her. "Just as an entire nightclub of people see a woman dressed like that-" she gestured at her iPad screen. "-kidnapping people, suddenly we have a video seeming to confirm it? It's almost like this was designed to play on people's fears."

"Not just any people," Ruan was replaying the last twenty seconds over and over again, watching the bubble of fluid materialise in the grass, feeling his anger rise with each passing second. "Just people who know about Shadowchasers and their 'magic'."

He watched as the water bloomed around the woman. _Were you one of them? Did you stop believing, and have to be convinced again?_ He did not have to dig deep to imagine how that poor woman must have felt, being attacked and violated and then looking up to see a nightmare standing over you. _It would scare anyone into falling into line._

"Are you sure this relates to the Shadowchasers?" Minnie asked pointedly. "Nothing we've seen in this video links them directly to this. It could be a third party."

"Conall drew protection spells over his wall in his own blood. His older sister somehow bypassed our security system to abduct her niece and nephew. An entire village was built in Newlands Forest right under the conservancy's nose. And now the youngest Duru sibling has a video that supposedly shows her witnessing a kidnapping with the same MO as our victims." Ruan did not realise his voice was rising until he saw Thombi inch back in her seat. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "What do all these things have in common? Strip away all the superstition and the theatre-" he waved his iPad. "- and they're the common thread tying this all together."

"...but it's just a thread - speculation, like you said," Thombi reminded him. "And we can't hold them to question them. Kloeter told us to release them."

That grated at Ruan, but he reigned himself in - he would not lose his temper. He needed sleep, or more coffee. But more importantly, he needed to be patient. Kloeter's interference just meant that the common thread ran deeper than they had thought. But they had the Shadowchasers on the run now - the video just meant that they were trying harder to convince people. All he needed was to wait for them to try too hard, and then that common thread would become a rope that they would use to hang themselves with.

"We're releasing Bastien and Thando, but Evangeline Duru is still here," Minnie reminded them. "The file originated with her."

Something determined crossed Thombi's face, and she managed a smile. "And we haven't questioned her yet. We'd better go talk to her - see if she has training in the art of video magic."

Ruan nodded to himself. "I'll get on to CRC - cross check this woman in the video. See if we can match her to any missing persons." Something about seeing the fear in her eyes had kicked him hard in the stomach. The witch might be a disguise or even a ruse, but there was nothing fake about her reaction - he'd been in the force long enough to tell when people were acting.

"Give that to Sipho," Thombi put in. "You have something more important to do." Ruan frowned at her, and she sighed. "Okay, startling the elephant in the room - here it goes. You need to talk to your niece."

Dread surged over Ruan. Out of the corner of his eye, Minnie was sitting just that little bit straighter on the table, indicating that her full attention was roused, in spite of her fingers flying across the screen of her own tablet. _Oh great...here we go…_

"I'm not talking to Becky about this case," he said, curtly. Minnie sighed theatrically, while Thombi just looked at him.

"Come on, Ruan. It's like we just said. Kloeter told us to stay away from these two weirdos - he didn't mention her. I'm not stupid. I know you've had Harriet sweet talking Dale all morning to find out about the autopsy-"

"-because it's pertinent to our case," Ruan interjected.

"We deal with missing people not dead ones," his deputy folded her arms. "Marko is homicide's job. Our job is the kidnappings. She was at the Oracle last night, and she's one of them."

She jerked her head towards the one-way glass, through which Thando was rubbing his bandaged arm against the edge of the table. Ruan could not help but stare at the carpet again. He remembered Bastien's sharp retort slicing across his brain like a knife. _Does she really frighten you that much?_

 _If she put over fifty stab wounds in Marko she might._

He was not frightened of Becky. He was terrified of what she represented. Did she believe in this conspiracy, or worse - was she helping to perpetuate it?

"She is one of them, but I can't just arrest her instead - I have no probable cause." _And a family that I will lose forever if I just slam her into jail without reason._

"No, but we need answers, and so do the people who've been kidnapped already," Thombi pointed out.

"I can't just drag her in here to be interrogated," Ruan objected. "Marina would never speak to me again." _And that's nothing compared to what Lihle would do to me._ He hated his own words. Every instinct told him that he had to know - to get to the bottom of this no matter what. He'd spent his entire life solving every case right down to the finest detail. But there was too much on the line. Marina, Violett, Lihle - he'd lose everything if he followed this line of investigation. _How can she bring this into my own home? How can she put me in this position after twenty years of clean uncorrupt investigation?_ He could not bear it.

He could see Thombi gearing up for another go, but Minnie got there first.

"Is she rational? Would she be more willing to talk than those two?" she asked, with another jerk of her head. Ruan thought about it. If she'd asked him twenty four hours ago, he would have said yes without hesitation. Becky had just been another member of his fiance's sprawling family. Polite. Calm. Quietly confident. Very close to grandmother. Less so with her sister. Sure she'd clearly had combat training, but that in itself was not a cause for concern. He'd have deemed her entirely rational.

 _But she's a Shadowchaser._ And rational people people did not become crazy vigilantes who believed in magic.

"I don't know. Maybe?" He shrugged helplessly, feeling his spirits sink further. He really was not up for this yet.

"Maybe is better than nothing," Minnie declared. Thombi was nodding.

"You talk to her." Ruan did not agree, but Thombi seemed to take his silence as an affirmation. "I'll talk to Evangeline. We'll see where we can go from there."

"And I'll see if my team have had any luck tracing Gelehrin." Minnie got up from the chair, her body creaking from her kevlar. "I'll keep you both posted."

She hurried off, tapping at her iPad and muttering about checking Gelehrin's APW. Ruan stared at the wall, not really seeing it or noticing Thombi was slipping from the room. Possibilities whirled in his mind, ranging from pulling Becky into an interrogation room in handcuffs to parking her in the family living room on the couch, but none of them slotted themselves into the winning combination.

Duty to his job demanded he arrest her for collusion and as a person of interest in this investigation. Duty to his not-quite family demanded he protect Becky from the overactive police bloodhound - himself, in this case - and thereby, so the rest of the family. The whole situation was a minefield, and Ruan had no desire to step into it. _This could ruin my life in so many ways._ But someone had to walk through it, and he knew he wouldn't want it to be anyone else. Shoulders slumped, he got to his feet and walked heavily to the door.

"They're home free," he called to Scholtz, who was performing his usual sentry duty by the interrogation rooms with more gravity than usual. But Ruan was in no mood to find it amusing. He shouldered the nearest door open and leaned against the wall, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he went.

 _The girls are clocked out on the sofa. I'm going to let them sleep - they can visit tomorrow. Elize's still drifting in and out. C._

 _DM's called in sick, so I'm coming home, changing, then going to work so I can cover the afternoon shift. Becky's with Mum now. M._

Reluctance seeped through him. He couldn't do this. He just couldn't.

It was the perfect time. Marina had left the hospital. The rest of the family was at home. Becky was alone with Lihle, who the doctors had assured them would probably sleep most of the afternoon away.

But he couldn't. He did not want to be the one to rip a hole in the family.

But if he didn't do anything, then Becky would be the one to do that. There was no way he could keep this hidden, even if he wanted to. The news would be all over any potential explanation to the string of kidnappings, the attack at the club, and once the word 'Shadowchaser' was floated about, Becky's involvement would be known far and wide.

And then there would be the inevitable questions of how much he had known, why had he let Becky do something so dangerous, wasn't she the breaking law and probably the two extremes of why hadn't he arrested her and how could he arrest her?

He thought of Marina. The news Becky was involved, even peripherally, would hurt her worse than any physical wound.

Ruan glanced at the still running video, of this woman's fear as this witch took her away. At Connall's extreme panic and paranoia. He couldn't explain everything, not yet. But the Shadowchasers were involved. The Shadowchasers' involvement had brought harm to these people. To god knew how many others.

And Becky, by her own admission, was a Shadowchaser.

She'd brought this danger to her family. To _his_ family.

And she was the only avenue he had to sorting this puzzle out.

And if she hadn't come to him to explain both of those things, to offer help, then he'd go to her.

And hope everyone forgave him.

OOO

"Are you _kidding_ me Scholtz?! What the hell were you _doing_ with it?!"

Bastien was taken aback as he realised that the angry voice belonged to his best friend. Leaving the long depressing corridor where the interrogation rooms were housed, Trevor was steering him towards the main custody desk, where Thando was leaning over it and a medium sized plastic box, clearly getting right into someone's face. It was difficult not to feel alarmed as Bastien realised that the someone in question (Scholtz presumably) was about three times broader than Thando's twiggy frame, and had the grim stone-faced look of someone who would be more than happy to swat this passing annoyance into the nearest wall.

"Thando, it's in your best interests to calm down," Trevor warned like a stern parent, not looking up from his phone. Bastien wondered cynically if Jalal was receiving a text about this already. Up close he could see that Thando's forehead had a delightful shiner, and he really hoped that he was not about to get another one for his temper.

"I don't care!" Reaching into the box, Thando held up the tray of his duel disk, neatly snapped at the neck, the main console dangling from it by a handful of wires. "Look what they did to it!"

"Nobody's touched this stuff since you got here," Scholtz's voice was entirely humourless, and more importantly, entirely devoid of fucks to give. "If it looks like that now, it was like that when it got here."

"Bollocks it did!" Dropping the ruined plastic back into the box, Thando rounded back on him. "It was in one piece when your colleagues yanked it off my wrist!"

"Leave this to me, please Thando," Trevor stepped in, already taking photos of the box for his own records. "You both get home and stay there until you hear from me."

Bastien gave a vague mutter of agreement, and busied himself emptying his own box. He immediately checked his phone. There were a handful of text messages from their check-ins which he would have to go through, but at a glance, nobody seemed to be missing, which was a huge relief that went some way to soothing his anger. Ruan Nkhosi was not worth a second more of his effort. He had a job to do.

From the back of his mind, Astra's voice from the week before echoed in his ears again. _Working is just how he copes._

He shoved it aside, furious again that he had let the detective get under his skin so easily.

"I notice the white guy's stuff is still in one piece!" Thando snapped, peevishly shoving his wallet and keys into his pocket.

"I don't discriminate," for the first time in the conversation, Scholtz's voice was emotive - sharp and angry at the suggestion. "If you don't believe me, I'm happy to break his duel disk to even you both up."

"Please don't make threats, Sergeant," Trevor's voice was entirely serious, and Bastien knew he was documenting all of this, and he grabbed his own disk before Scholtz could act on his words.

"Let's just go, Thando." He suspected that his efforts at a calming voice were not helping, and he took the more direct approach of tugging on his friend's arm, until he conceded to follow, a dirty scowl still across his face.

" _Like that when it got here_ , my ass!" he proclaimed, as soon as they were safely in the street again. It was mid afternoon and it felt blisteringly hot after the cold custody suite, and Bastien wondered if that was a trick they did on purpose to ramp up the suspect's discomfort.

"Bad things come in threes, Thando," he tried to reassure him, as they turned down the road towards the impound lot. "You've broken your phone, got a knock to the head and had your duel disk snapped. That's all of them now."

In spite of everything, he didn't really believe it. Between losing Rana, almost losing Serena, fighting with Thando earlier and losing track of Gelehrin he felt like this was going to be a day of bad luck - and they were only half way through the afternoon. Anger flared again and he kicked at a discarded cola bottle. It shattered against the nearest wall, and Thando frowned at him.

"I was going to kick that," in a one eighty from his rage, he now sounded deeply disappointed.

"I'm sorry." Bastien felt bad for his outburst, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm just pissed off with Nkhosi is all."

"Ah...let me guess." his friend tapped his fingers against his chin as they walked. "He dug through your records and found Thera's inquest?"

The certainty in his voice surprised Bastien as much as the words, and he found Thando's expression to be depressingly knowing. "He pulled the same shit with me. Gave me a good needling about my dad and brother. Asked if I was that keen to join them."

Bastien was aghast. Thando's family history was a horrible wound to prod at. His mother was living with HIV after a brutal gang rape ten years ago, and his father and brother were in jail for murdering two of the men responsible. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It didn't work. I made my peace with it a long time ago." Bastien knew that was true - Thando had made it clear several times that neither his father or brother regretted it, and they'd happily do it again. Hell, Thando would happily join in - he felt it was only fair punishment for the men who had given his mother a death sentence, and Bastien could not help but agree.

"Don't let him get under your skin," Thando was looking at him seriously. "He was just trying to piss you off enough that you'd say something. He hasn't got a clue, and he's not worth being angry about."

That was true, and Bastien felt some of his fury simmer away, replaced with embarrassment. Deep down he knew that Ruan had just been trying to rile him up enough to speak. It was a classic interrogation technique, and he'd fallen for it like an idiot.

That didn't make it hurt less. Or make him less concerned. They had been let free, but there were more than two Shadowchasers in Cape Town. Quickly he pulled out his phone and fired off a text message.

 _Heads up - you were right. Thando and I just spent the last two hours in holding cells thanks to your uncle-to-be. We're both fine, but he's probably coming for you next._

Becky clearly was not doing anything too urgent, for her response came back in less than ten seconds.

 _Fuck._

A squinty faced emoticon capped it off. The sight of it made Bastien smile for the first time since the arrest.

 _How's your grandmother?_

"Oh sing hallelujah!" Thando exclaimed, as they ducked under the barrier to the impound lot. "Something of mine that isn't broken!"

Sure enough, both their bikes were no worse for wear for having been transported across town. As Bastien examined his for damage, his phone buzzed again.

 _Tired. She keeps dozing. They woke her up for lunch, but she refused it. Gluten-free carrot soup and lactose-free diabetic-safe ice cream._

Another squinty face.

"We should head back to the forest," Thando was already buckling his helmet into place, clearly eager to be away from the day's interruptions. Bastien was relieved that he was not the only one ignoring all of Trevor's warnings to go home and lay low. "Try and find the fire. We might be able to salvage something."

It was a feeble hope, but they couldn't in good conscience not take it. Bastien nodded. "It'll give the elves some reassurance that we're doing something too. Trevor said he'd look after Evie and the twins. I'll go home and catch up on the check ins."

"And get a bollocking from Jalal," Thando filled in helpfully. Bastien winced.

"Yeah...any advice?" he asked hopefully.

"Sorry - I usually keep my trap shut," with a cheerful smile that was almost certainly fake, Thando kicked his bike into gear and began to weave between the abandoned vehicles. With the same impending dread that he had not felt since being sent to the headteacher's office at school, Bastien unlocked his phone again, and ran through the text messages again, trying to decide who should be his top priority.

Close to the bottom of the list, his fingers stalled over the video file that Evie had sent - the last message he had received before the police had pounced on them. He hesitated for a moment, before pressing his thumb on the message to forward it.

 _Rana's been taken. You should see this._

He pressed send, and kick started his own bike. He was at the gate to the impound lot, when the reply came back.

 _...fuck._

OOO

The coffee machine had to be about twenty years old, by Becky's reckoning, and it spluttered it's contents into the cheap plastic cups like a coughing smoker with tuberculosis. But it was better than nothing. She took the cup and curled up back into her refuge - the three hard plastic chairs wedged in the corner of the ward. There was no privacy on the post-op ward - the twenty beds, and two private rooms were all within eye line of the nurse's station - but there was a plant pot at the end of the seats which provided her some cover.

Feeling faintly morbid, she pressed the replay button again. Was it the sixth time? Or the seventh? She couldn't remember. New details kept creeping out with each view, like the way the seaweed glistened in the magical light. Or the way blood matted the tokoloshe's hair.

By the fifth rewatch, she was sure she could hear Rana crying.

 _What did you do? Why did she torture you like this?_ Was it because the succubus had given them information? Was that why she'd attacked Serena in the same way? Her eyes darted to the other side of the screen, as the witch was lit by the soft glow in the clearing. _What do you want? To scare us off?_ That would never happen - she was sure of it.

The video faded to black again, taking any hope of answers with it. She automatically hit the replay button once more, frowning as the sidebar popped automatically into view with the date and timestamp.

 _This is barely two minutes after she disappeared from the Oracle._ Her forehead was aching from frowning so much, and she rubbed at the spot between her eyes. _Did she go straight from the club to here?_ The timing couldn't be coincidental. Rana had left through the back door of the Oracle just as the witch had appeared. _Was she hunting her down, and just saw an opportunity to kidnap a few more people at the club? Or was it the other way around?_ There was something significant about her movements, but she could not figure out what. _What did Rana do at the club? She had a few drinks. She managed to wrangle a kiss off me. She gave us the information about the demons. And then she left._ It had to be because of the information. There was no other reason she would have to hunt the succubus down. _And it ties in with her attack on Serena. It has to be because of the information._

But as Rana's broken and bloody body came into view again, she knew it wasn't that simple. _You hurt her because you wanted to not because you had to. So what did Serena and Rana do to upset you?_

Maybe she was overthinking this, but it was clawing at her brain like a tokoloshe.

There was a cough from the plant pot, and she felt her heart sink into her stomach as she tore her eyes away from the phone. Ruan was hovering there like a disappointed parent. She immediately flicked her eyes back to the phone. Maybe part of her was hoping that if she couldn't see him he wasn't there, but that was daft - she hadn't believed that when that vampire had come stalking at her window in her childhood, and she didn't believe it now. She let the video run out once more, trying hard not to think about Rana's feeble wispy sobs.

"We need to talk."

Becky felt the shadow of dread creep over her before he had even finished speaking. "Do we really have to?" she was fully aware that she sounded like she was whining. She had been hoping to talk to her immediate family first, and save the hardest and most awkward conversation for last. But someone up there was clearly enjoying her misery. Ruan frowned at her.

"I'm sorry - do you have a ghost to bust, or something?" he did not sound amused in the least. "We waited on you all night Becky - we're doing this now."

She shrank, particularly as she realised she'd stupidly allowed herself to be boxed in between the wall and the vending machine. "Fine. Talk."

Ruan did not sit down, preferring instead to stand over her, arms folded. It was a confrontational stance, but it did not suit him, and Becky got the feeling that he was only using it because he had no energy for patience.

"I need you to tell me where you were last night after the Oracle."

There was a comfortable way he issued the question - this was just another interrogation to him, Becky thought cynically.

"You mean after the witch popped in and kidnapped thirty three people?" she asked dryly. She could play this game too - there was only one reason he'd want to know her whereabouts after the Oracle. They'd found Marko's body. She was a little disappointed - part of her had been hoping that the girls would have mutilated him beyond all recognition.

"You're changing the subject." With a deep breath, that seemed to take tremendous effort, Ruan ploughed on. "I just came from work. There's a bit of a party going on in homicide right now. Apparently Marko Vetenari washed up in Zeeklovia early this morning, with fifty five stab wounds, and no pulse."

Becky could not help the small ember of savage pleasure that spread through her at the news. Not even a demon could survive fifty five stab wounds, although she was curious - did half demons just respawn in the Abyss like full ones, or did their non-demon half null that particular genetic cheat code? She would have to ask Bastien later. Or text Rayearth.

"No pulse, Becky," Ruan's voice jolted her back into her hard plastic chair. "He was murdered. And not quickly and cleanly - those wounds were hard and painful." His hands found their way to his hips. "You're a lot of things - and I didn't see most of them before last night - but fifty five stab wounds? That's cruel of you. I didn't think you were cruel. But then I didn't think you were a Shadowchaser either, so shows what the hell I know."

She'd seen this gambit before in interrogations - hard and fast accusations to try and put the suspect on the backfoot, and leave them scrambling to cover their asses with their story. Instead she tried to coach her face back into calm focus. "I'm not a psychopath, thank you Ruan. Believe it or not, I don't rub my hands together in glee every time someone out there attacks my family or friends because it means I get to go and take murderous revenge. I was raised better than that."

Wanting something to do with her hands, she took a sip of her coffee. It was already lukewarm, and the powder stuck to her tongue and the roof of her mouth.

"Then you won't mind telling me exactly where you were last night?" Ruan said pointedly. "Preferably between the hours of eleven and one?"

Becky scowled. "In Nyanga. With Bastien. Hunting down Marko."

Only a flicker of surprise betrayed Ruan - clearly coffee was no substitute for sleep. "So you admit you murdered him?"

"No, I admit we went to hunt him down - keep up," she was too wrung out to be polite. "We found him behind a bar on Jackhalsvlei Road. We were going to arrest him when he made a run for it. I…"

She paused. Even knowing that Ruan was aware of the nature of her job did not stop the part of her brain that was entrenched in secrecy from screaming at her before she spoke. She took a deep breath and steeled herself.

"I used a spell...sort of," she could already see him rolling his eyes. "I basically sealed us off until the fight calmed down." She was not telling Ruan that she had distracted him with card games. That would not help the situation by any stretch.

"...you can use magic?" Ruan's voice was thick with disbelief. Becky shrugged.

"A little."

"Prove it." Ruan nodded to the end of the chairs. "Lift that plant pot for me."

Now it was Becky's turn to roll her eyes. "Not that kind of magic Ruan. I can move fast and take hard hits, but that's about it. I'm just a human."

"Do you listen to yourself when you say this stuff?" Ruan asked. "I don't play games in my job, Becky. If you can't give me a reasonable alibi for Marko's death-"

"I hear it!" the same anger that had fuelled her that morning with Xicerine resurged. "Do you think I don't appreciate how mad it all sounds? I only found out about this four years ago, Ruan, and I had exactly the same reaction. It all sounded insane. But it still made sense and I couldn't ignore it! So I rolled with it."

"And that's what you think I should do?" her uncle-to-be folded his arms. "Roll with it? Just accept what you tell me without question?"

Becky's shoulders slumped. "Would that really be so bad?" She heard the pleading in her voice. Every desperate desire that had been lingering in the last twenty four hours (since she'd arrived in this country, if she was being completely honest), bubbled hopefully up inside her.

The strained patience on Ruan's face popped the bubbles like needles.

"I don't understand you, Becky. I've see fanatics. I see plenty of them. And I see the people who get taken in by them. They're always the same. Vulnerable. Poorly educated. Neglected. Searching for something to make them feel special." He leaned down so he was eye level with her. "You're none of those things. You're smart, and you've got a family who love you. So why would you go along with this? You say you know it sounds mad, so why go along with it?"

"Because it makes sense." She sounded defensive to her own ears, as her patience began to wane again. "Because it answers questions that I've had my whole life. I can see it, Ruan. I can feel it. I can touch it. You don't think I wish sometimes everyone else could too? It would make everything so much easier! I could stop looking over my shoulder. I could stop fearing my family when they ask me 'so how was work today?'"

"Life isn't easy, Becky. Or a fairytale. Magic does not exist."

A headache was starting to brew in Becky's temples, and she pressed her fingertips into the ache. "I can't offer you any proof. I'm sorry. All I can do is promise you that it's real."

"I don't know how you do things in your investigations. But in my line of work - in the real world - we need evidence. So I'll ask you once more, Becky. What happened to Marko?"

Chewing at the rim of her cup, Becky sighed, tasting plastic in her mouth. "...Marko...tried to make a run for it. The spell sort of backfired against that, and exploded." She twisted her arm over to reveal the worst of her rapidly healing grazes. "Bastien came to help me. He was checking me over. Neither of us were looking at Marko...he had girls working for him." Her throat stuck at the memory of their savage faces.

"In what capacity?" Ruan's voice did not shift, but Becky saw the look in his eyes. He had guessed what she meant.

"Prostitution, Ruan. He pimped them out. They didn't want to be there. They were girls...younger than Andi." She was surprised to feel tears, and swallowed them back. "They pounced on him. About ten of them. They had sticks...all sorts. They stabbed him over and over…" She shook her head. "We didn't want to stop them. And if you think for a second that I'm going to rat them out to the SAPS just to provide myself an alibi then you're sadly mistaken!"

Setting her coffee cup down next to her, she folded her own arms, and scowled at him. She could almost see Ruan mentally counting to ten in his head.

"I'm sure you think you're being loyal, but keeping information from me won't help you, Becky. Do you have any idea how strong a case I have right now for arresting you?"

"Then go ahead!" Becky found herself standing. "Arrest me. Go on." She held out her hands. "Go nuts. Mum and Andi already think I'm insane. Prove them right! I'm sick of looking over my shoulder, worrying what people think of me! It's exhausting! So stop standing over me making threats, and just do it!"

For a beat, neither of them moved. Becky wondered what was going on in his head now. Was he surprised by her attitude? Or was he wondering if she was trying to trick him? Was he weighing up if his desire to get to the bottom of everything once and for all was more powerful than his love for Marina?

She would never find out, for the tension was broken by an earsplitting bang from the nearest private room. Becky felt her heart skip a beat.

"Nana!"

She tore out of her corner with Ruan hot on her heels. The nurse's station was empty, all of them attending to other patients, but a porter nearby was staring at the door, alarm written across his face. Becky waved him away, and he dropped his mop and scurried off for help as both she and Ruan burst through the door.

Lihle was sat upright, wires and tubes still attached, one hand bracing herself against the pillows, the other outstretched like a bowler. The plastic water jug from her bedside table lay cracked into pieces on the linoleum, and beside it, a stunned tokoloshe lay in a puddle of water with its tongue hanging out, blinking in a dazed fashion up at the ceiling tiles.

"The nerve of your mistress!" Lihle was ranting. "Sneaking up on an old lady while she's trying to rest!"

"What the hell?" Ruan had slammed into Becky's back behind her and now stared at the tokoloshe with horror and disgust on his face. Seeing it begin to stir, Becky seized the fruit bowl from the dresser, dumped the contents on the floor and slammed it down over the stunned creature.

"Good thinking," Lihle said, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed. "Have you got anything stronger? He won't be out for long - I only got a glancing blow on his head."

Remembering the hessian sack she had snagged from Bastien's room that morning, Becky twisted so that her knee pressed the bowl into the floor while her hands pulled her shoulder bag around to find it.

"That's…that's a…" Becky could see Ruan's mouth working the word over, even if he could not force it past his lips. As the tokoloshe rolled over in the bowl, he jerked back half a step, his eyes wide with fear. "It's not possible…"

"Funny, I had a similar reaction two days ago," Becky said dryly, finally locating the sack and yanking it free. She could not help but feel a ridiculous sense of relief and pleasure at the manner in which Ruan had been confronted with undeniable proof of his own cynicism.

"Becky, he can see it," Lihle had not relaxed on the bed. In fact as Becky turned to look, she looked positively shaken. "He can _see_ it!"

Understanding dropped into her mind like an anvil, and she almost dropped the sack as the implications sank in. Ruan was Mundane, and yet he stared at the tokoloshe with the same childlike terror that everyone who saw them had done.

"That's not possible…" she whispered, not really caring who could hear her. A cold chill caught the base of her spine. "Unless-"

Her eyes met her grandmother's and she felt the synergy of realisation. _It's not Shadowkind._

"What is going on here?" Ruan was not shouting - he was too professional for that - but his words demanded an answer, and Becky could hear the shake in them. The detective was thoroughly rattled. He had also not taking his eyes off the fruit bowl.

"I was dozing," Lihle swallowed, finding her voice. "I don't know how he got in. I just saw him creeping this way across the floor and I grabbed the jug and hurled it at him."

Under any other circumstances, Becky might have been amused at the way she and Ruan traced their gaze in unison over the floor towards the adjacent wall, and landed together on the door to the tiny en-suite bathroom. She was glad Ruan moved to check it out first - she was not sure she felt safe enough to release the bowl.

The detective pushed the door open and immediately covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve. Sat on the bowl, Becky could not help but recoil from the smell wafting out of the gap in the door - it was like rotting seaweed.

"The toilet is backed up," Ruan reported, closing the door firmly behind him.

"They're using the plumbing?" Becky felt a shudder works its way over her skin. "That is the creepiest thing I've ever heard."

"Effective though," Lihle put in thoughtfully. "Especially if their mistress has been using them to spy for her. Even if you live out in the shanties, there will probably be a communal tap near you."

Becky felt herself nod. "It also explains the water at the crime scenes. We saw the witch using it last night at the club to kidnap people - I guess her tokoloshe use it too."

Voices were coming from the ward outside, and she felt her heart leap. "Not much time. Ruan...Ruan!" He was still staring at the water spirit trapped beneath her, and she clapped both her hands to rouse him. Part of her felt pleased - it probably took a lot to stun him. "I need you to hold this bowl down for me."

She was relieved when he complied. She caught only the tiniest hint of reluctance as he touched the glass - no doubt the same lingering childish terror that all of their culture held for these creatures. But she respected him for ignoring it and focusing, pressing the bowl down with a firm grip as she shook the bag open.

"Okay, on the count of three, you lift it, and I'll stuff him in here." The tokoloshe was still dazed, but blinking steadily at its surroundings, and it would not be long before it was coherent enough to bite again.

Their eyes met briefly. The shock was wearing off, and she knew there would be more questions, possibly anger, maybe even denial. But she did not need him to believe her right now - she just needed him to obey. So it was a relief when he nodded, and focused again on the bowl.

"One...two...three!"

The confused creature did not react to the bowl being yanked away, but it did shriek as Becky slammed the sack over it and plunged it into darkness. Scooping it up, Becky yanked the drawstring closed and tied it off just to be sure. The sack wriggled as the creature rolled over and little bulges appeared as it tried to strike, but they were the feeble efforts of a creature that had not regained full use of it's wits yet.

It was not a second too soon, for the door opened and a nurse bustled in.

"Now what's been going on in here?" she demanded, her voice bossy and no nonsense. Becky felt herself freeze like a startled antelope and Ruan shared a panicked look with her. Lihle however, cut in smoothly.

"Nothing to worry about, Sindi - I just tried to sit up and knocked my water jug flying. Silly old woman…" she gave a self deprecating smile that merely caused the nurse to roll her eyes. Wondering what on earth her grandmother could have done already to exasperate the nurses so, Becky quickly tucked the sack behind her back, as Ruan began innocently gathering up the shattered pieces of water jug and placing them into the fruit bowl. Apparently satisfied that nothing strange was occurring, Sindi muttered something about getting a mop before disappearing through the door.

Relieved, Becky released the breath she had been holding, and by her side she heard Ruan do the same. "That was close. You lie far too well, Nana."

Lihle smirked. "I know. Now why don't you ring one of your nice young men to come and take that nasty thing away?"

Getting to her feet, Becky felt her face warm. "They're not my nice young men, Nana." She sighed, dialling obediently regardless.

"Oh good - so I can have a crack at them?" the older woman said cheerfully, snorting as Becky glared at her. "Oh Ruan, get yourself off that floor and come have a seat. It's really not as bad as you think."

She settled back against her pillows, patting the arm of the chair by her bedside as she went. Ruan did as he was told, carefully lowering himself to a seated position, his gaze still fixed on the hessian sack. At least he wasn't screaming, Becky thought to herself. Actually he was handling this rather well, all things considered. It helped that her grandmother had the kind of voice that you could not disobey.

"Will that hold it? It had...claws…" Ruan gestured weakly, clearly still not sure what to think. Becky felt her mouth twitch, remembering that she had asked Bastien exactly the same thing the first time.

"Yeah, it's enchanted and the guys have something stronger to keep him in." She remembered the collection that Xicerine had dropped off that morning, and wondered vaguely if the boys would need to invest in another dog cage.

"See? Everything under control," smiling, Lihle patted her future son-in-law on the leg before waving at her granddaughter. "Off you go dear. Ruan will keep an eye on me in case there are any more."

Becky felt her heart stammer with alarm at the idea of there being any more, and despite knowing that Ruan had swept the room already, she could not help but give it one last scan before she left. She took a small amount of comfort in remembering that Ruan was armed, and hurried out of the ward and across the corridor, eager to put as much space between her family and the angry hessian sack as possible.

* * *

 **A/N:** I don't watch crime dramas. Can you tell? Sorry for the delay.


	11. Veil

**A/N:** This chapter has an M rating. Don't say I didn't warn you. . .

* * *

 **Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed**

 **By Mei1105**

 **Chapter 11: Veil**

Even as the door swung closed behind Becky, Ruan felt his gaze follow almost magnetically, his brain begging him to find some rational explanation for the thing that lay in the hessian sack, to no avail.

 _It's not possible. They're not real…_

The mantra was getting weaker and more feeble each time it passed through his mind. He rubbed his eyes feeling a headache start to brew. Was he sleep deprived? Seeing things in his exhaustion? He didn't feel tired - just stretched too thin. Taking a few deep breaths did nothing to calm the storm rolling around inside him.

 _They're not real…_

But they were. He had seen it. Becky had touched it. Lihle had bashed it over the head with her water jug. He always trusted what his senses were telling him - in his line of work it often meant the difference between life and death. And his every sense told him that that thing was as real - as flesh and blood - as he was.

 _They're not real..._

A hand squeezed his shoulder.

"It's alright dear," Lihle's voice was low and calm. "It's a lot to take in."

He blinked at her. Her alarm at being snuck up on had gone, and a firm, rational command now emanated from her. Dark eyes were focused and more importantly, all knowing.

"What was that?" he whispered. Removing her grip from his shoulder, Lihle smiled, as though he had asked the easiest question in the world.

"That was a tokoloshe. But that's not really what you're asking, is it?"

It was not - Ruan was Xhosa too after all, and was familiar with their folklore.

"I have to admit, I didn't know they were real until Rebecca told me a few days ago," Lihle continued. "That's why I went around putting bricks under the beds for everyone. She and her colleagues have been finding them all over the city."

Something cold and heavy slipped into Ruan's stomach at the thought of more of those creatures lurking around the city. Childhood superstitions were meant to stay in childhood - not follow you into your adult life.

"That's the first one I've seen," Lihle admitted, pulling a face. "I have to confess, I always thought that their endowments were exaggerated. Little disturbing to realise that they were spot on-"

"It's not-" the words were there, but Ruan was struggling to put them in order. "Lihle, that's just not possible. Things like that...they don't exist!"

Lihle's face fell, and Ruan felt embarrassed as he realised that the older woman was disappointed in him. "Oh come now, Ruan - you're not a stupid man. You've just seen one with your own eyes."

"Yes, but-" Ruan halted, as he realised that he had no logical argument with which to refute that. "But…if that was a tokoloshe, why don't people know about them? Why haven't they seen them?"

The patient shrugged. "A few reasons. Firstly if my mythology is correct, they can turn themselves invisible by drinking water."

Ruan felt his head twitch in a nod - he had heard the same thing when he had been a child.

"Secondly they're not usually around. From what Rebecca has mentioned, they've been summoned by this witch that's responsible for all of the kidnappings - hence they only appeared when she did."

A perturbed expression crossed her face and she folded her arms, clearly disturbed by whatever thought had just occurred to her. "And thirdly, you're not _supposed_ to be able to see them. Magic is supposed to conceal itself from normal people. Only magical creatures, and a few humans with the gift can see it. I'm at a complete loss as to how you can see it. If normal people can perceive them then this could be a problem..."

The notion clearly troubled her, but Ruan's cynicism had returned full force, and would not be ignored.

"So you're trying to tell me that magic is real but that only a few special people can see it, and the tokoloshe can conveniently also turn themselves invisible? Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"

Yet even as the words left his lips, another voice materialised in his head - Conall Duru, exhausted but frantic. Hadn't he said the exact same thing about magic in his interview? And he knew that Lihle was right - according to legends, tokoloshe _could_ turn themselves invisible. Combine that with her logical explanation that the tokoloshe were tied to the kidnappings, and it was entirely plausible that nobody had seen them.

 _Plausible? There's nothing plausible about it!_ The rational part of his mind raged. _It's magic! Magic isn't real!_

But the tokoloshe had been real.

By his side, Lihle's lips tightened into a thin line.

"Insane am I?" she demanded. "Very well, Ruan. You give me a rational explanation for the tokoloshe creeping up to my bed five minutes ago, and I will agree to your assessment of my mental faculties. Go on - dazzle me."

She folded her arms, the challenge thrown, and Ruan felt himself instinctively shrinking away from her furious expression. It was like being scolded by the headteacher - or worse, your mother. He tried to scrape together something that would rationalise what he had seen. Something that would dispel all of his future mother-in-law's well rounded arguments. Something that would reassure him that everything he knew and believed in in his life was solid and reliable.

It all dissolved as he remembered the stunned creature trapped beneath the fruit bowl, tongue lolling out to one side, its eyes glassy with concussion.

He had no explanation - rational or otherwise. He had intellectual stubbornness, and he was clinging to it with all his might because it was the only source of truth that he had ever known.

One look at Lihle's face told him that she knew it too.

"And don't you call me insane again." She ordered. "I took you for a respectful young man."

It was in insult that she clearly had a history with, and Ruan felt shame creep over him. "I'm sorry, Lihle."

It was strange how a little shame seemed to patch over the gaping wound in his brain where the existence of tokoloshe now sat festering. It was familiar and understandable, and he clung to it.

Desperate for distraction, he examined the room again, half convinced he'd see more little faces peering out of the shadows. But the room was well lit and nothing lingered in the corners or beneath the bedside cabinet. Nervously, his gaze flicked to the bathroom door, still closed against the smell. He could almost see the incursion playing out now. It had crawled up the toilet. Slipped through the door. Then crept up to Lihle's bed to do...what? His mind, ever helpful, had no trouble filling in the blanks with tiny claws, vicious teeth, and obscenely large-

He felt the image slam into his brain faster than a hit of caffeine - the dark pixilated corner of Company's Garden with the broken and bleeding body adorning it. _Lihle said they were summoned by the witch - did they do that to that poor woman?_ The next hit went to his stomach, and he fought the urge to be sick.

"I'd love to have an explanation that would help you process all of this slowly," Lihle said, with a knowingness to her voice. She seemed to mistake his sudden realisation as an internal struggle for understanding. "But unfortunately there is really no slow introduction to this world."

Slow sounded terribly appealling, but his brain was moving so fast he knew it would never allow it. "...you could give me your introduction. I'm sure it will be just as effective."

Something about his request made the older woman laugh.

"Oh if only it were that easy, dear," she said, patting him on the arm. "No, all I can do is walk you through what I can in the best order that I can. So yes, magic exists. Ghosts. Dragons. Dwarves. Elves-"

His head snapped up as the image of the pale man with bloody sigils drawn on his skin filled his mind once again. Lihle's dark eyes seemed to grab the memory too.

"Ah, so you've met some of them? I hope you were more patient with them than you were with me and Rebecca."

The back of Ruan's neck burned. How did all mothers have a knack for making you feel so small?

"Most of them live in hiding, and people like Rebecca and her colleagues help keep them safe," Lihle seemed pleased with her concise summary, smoothing the rumpled bed covers down over her drain once more. "Any questions?"

She only smiled in the face of his astonished disbelief. _A million! How long do you have?_ But where the hell did one begin when confronted with something like this? He had just seen a tokoloshe -

 _How? How did I see it? Why did I see it? How can they exist?_

It had tried to sneak up on Lihle -

 _Why? What made her special? Will there be more of them? How do you stop them?_

Magic was real -

 _How can it be real? Does that mean the witch is real? Is Conall really an elf? Did Gelehrin use magic to break into the station?_

There were too many questions, fighting for space in his brain. Everything was important and none of it was. What was he supposed to do? To say? To ask?

"Maybe you should lay down dear," Lihle said practically, pulling the sheets back and swinging her legs off the bed.

"Where are you going?" Her sudden movement shocked him back into the room. She arched an eyebrow at him and pointedly wrapped a hand around her drip stand.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she proclaimed with not even a flicker of embarrassment. "I promise you no force on earth will compel me to use that ridiculous thing."

She nodded disdainfully at the bedpan.

"You can't go in there!" the very prospect was alarming. Truthfully he was not sure he knew what to do if another tokoloshe poked its head out of the toilet. "What if another one appears?"

"Then I clonk that one over the head too," in the hand that was not clutching the drip stand like a very skinny date, Lihle waved her hardback copy of _The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out Of The Window And Disappeared_. "I'll be fine."

And she meandered slowly towards the bathroom, wheeling the stand purposefully after her, and leaving Ruan alone with his thousands of questions.

 _What do I do with this information?_ Never mind that - how did he even _process_ this information? The idea of tokoloshe being real was uncurling a deep, childish terror inside him, and every movement out of the corner of his eye - the nurses passing the outside window for a smoke break, the porters wheeling a trolley of fresh linen across the ward - conspired to make him jump. How many more were there? Were they even now slipping out of people's bathrooms to claw at them while they slept? His breathing felt tight at the idea. Would they all end up like that woman from the video - bleeding and too weak to even call for help?

 _Get ahold of yourself_ , he thought sternly. _You're a trained police detective. You used to work homicides for Gods sake. You've made it forty years without a tokoloshe attacking you - they aren't suddenly going to jump you just because you know they exist._ He shook his head. That way lay paranoia. That way lay becoming a proper headcase like Conall Duru.

He took a few deep breaths and tried to organise his thoughts. He would not crack under this. He was a professional. He just needed some time to think...

"Good news Ruan." His efforts to think were interrupted as Lihle strode purposefully back into the room. "I can't use my bathroom."

He felt his heart thud, even as he rationalised that there was no way she would have come out of the bathroom so casually if there was another tokoloshe in her toilet. "Why?"

Lihle gave a long suffering sigh. "Because the tokoloshe made a mess of the plumbing when it came up." Embarrassment crept up Ruan's neck. Of course it was backed up - he'd said it himself. Securing her drip stand firmly in her right hand, Lihle seized a pair of purple zebra striped slippers from her overnight bag. "Now do me a favour and ask Sindi to send a porter in to unblock it. I'm going to see if that nice looking young man in the other private room wouldn't mind letting a beautiful stranger use his bathroom."

OOO

"Sir, this is the loading bay."

"Yes, and as you can see, I'm loading something." Bastien gave the strap around the back of his bike an extra hard yank, making the tokoloshe inside the sack squeal at the constraint. After everything with Rana and Serena, he didn't feel the tiniest bit guilty about hurting it. Becky seemed inclined to agree, glaring at the man as hard as she could, the wellbeing of the water spirit clearly the last thing on her mind too.

The traffic warden gave the bag an alarmed look, before shaking his head, clearly chalking the noise up to the sound of the nylon against the buckle. He hurried away, satisfied that his point had been made, and went to chastise a family at the other end of the bay, who were taking their sweet time getting a pushchair out of the back of their minivan.

"Sorry for calling you here again," Becky's voice sounded distant, and Bastien knew she had a million more important problems in her head right now. Inbuilt politeness was running her mouth at the moment, while the rest of her worried. He tried to smile reassuringly.

"I'm glad you did. It's one less tokoloshe on the street." Rummaging through his pockets, he pulled out a small bottle of herbs. "Here. Vuyo's been experimenting with them. Put about half a teaspoon's worth in all four corners of the room. Should deter them."

She took a sniff and recoiled, her eyes watering. Bastien tried not to laugh - it did have a kick like Thando's strongest curry.

"Thanks." Screwing the lid back on, her eyes darted back in the direction of the post-op wing. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to leave her, but they won't let me stay overnight…"

Bastien shook his head. "I don't think it would help. We don't even know who they were really after - your grandmother? You? Or someone else in the hospital we don't even know about?" He shrugged. "And anyway, from what Vuyo's said, she's been finding them all over the city all morning - it's not like anywhere in Cape Town is safe...this isn't reassuring you at all, is it?"

"Not in the least," her reply was dry, but at least she had managed to find a smile somewhere, which was what Bastien had been hoping for all along. Sighing heavily, Becky ran both hands over her face. "Have you heard from Serena? Or anything about Rana?"

That at least he could answer. "Serena and Akeila are fine - they're taking the boat round to Betty's Bay to check on the nymphs, and then they're going to head down to Hermanus to talk to one of the mermaid clans - see if they've seen anything stalking the whales."

Becky nodded. "We're supposed to go whale watching in the bay tomorrow...if anyone's still speaking to me." She added. Clearly she had not had a chance to talk to the rest of her family yet, and Bastien did not envy her that job. "And Rana?"

Just the mention of her name again was enough to make Bastien's face fall. Truthfully he did not know where they would even start. He could see the anxiety stealing across Becky's face again, the way she clenched and unclenched her hands together.

"...I know there wasn't anything we could have done," she finally said. "I know we were busy in the club and then hunting Marko, but..."

She didn't have to finish it - Bastien was thinking the same thing. _But she wouldn't have been in the city in the first place if she hadn't come to help us._ She sounded so small and sad, and very much like she was trying to convince herself. Bastien knew he felt guilty too. He'd assumed that Rana would be fine on her own. If he'd known, he'd never have let her out of his sight.

"That could have been Serena," Becky sounded very far away, the idea clearly playing out in her head. "It _would_ have been her, if her mother hadn't intervened. It might be Nana. It might be Vuyo. It might be Fatima or any of the girls from last night. Hell, why am I limiting this to women? She could do this to anyone we know."

She sounded close to tears, and Bastien reached over and squeezed her shoulder.

"She won't. This change in MO is special. She had no problems taking thirty three people in the club last night without a scratch on them. Something about Serena and Rana singled them out. Something personal."

"Like helping us out?" Becky asked, sounding hopeless. "That's the only connection I can think of and it doesn't make me feel any better."

But something about that did not sit right with Bastien, and he shook his head. "No, it can't just be that. You only punish people like that to scare the investigation off. But if scaring us off was all she wanted she didn't need to attack Rana or Serena - just abduct them normally. Hell, abduct us normally. Cut off the investigation at the source. No, there's another reason she's doing this."

He felt like there was an obvious answer just dangling out of reach, but he just could not think what it was. From the look on Becky's face, he guessed that she had no revelations either. Instead she went back to anxiously glancing toward her grandmother's room.

"This whole day is a mess," she concluded, heavily. "You getting arrested and now this with Nana and Ruan…"

Bastien felt a frown develop between his brows. "Yeah, how is he taking this?" He had never seen Ruan struck dumb, nor could he really picture it. He was also wondering whether this development would make his life better or worse.

Rubbing the back of her head, Becky gave a helpless shrug. "Honestly? I don't know. He was just kind of stunned. I left him with Nana - she seemed to have a better idea how to talk to him." She pressed her fingers to her forehead again. "How it even possible that he can see them? He's Mundane. He's shocked yeah, but there's no sign of Awareness madness either."

"I'll take your word on that." Bastien had never seen anyone going through Awareness madness, and he did not want to start now. "You might not be far off with your theory - they're not Shadowkind. The Veil doesn't work to hide them, because they're part of this world."

"I'm surprised the Veil is sophisticated enough to distinguish," Becky admitted, clearly wondering what other magical myths were running around in the world unchecked. Bastien shrugged.

"Don't ask me. Vuyo's the Incantifer. If we want technical explanations on how the Veil works we'd need to ask her." He checked his phone. "Speak of which, I need to get going - Vu text me while I was driving asking me to meet her and Thando at the beach."

He gave the strap on the back of his bike another tug for good measure. The tokolsohe growled, but seemed resigned to it's fate for now. With another glance back towards the ward, Becky sighed heavily.

"Someday I'll call or text you and it won't be an emergency." She promised. Bastien smiled.

"I promise you it's not a problem - you cut my telling off from Jalal short. Please feel free to do it again."

"At least you had yours over the phone," Becky muttered. "He was visiting Backwater when I got arrested, so I got mine in person."

He blinked at her in surprise. "You've been arrested? What were you doing?"

She gave him a look. "I was a black woman in America...what do you think I was doing?"

It took him a second to mentally recall her unblemished employee file, and realise what she was getting at. "...minding your own business?"

"Bingo." Running both hands over her face, she took a deep breath. "Suppose I'd better go back...see what damage has been done…"

Bastien could not help but be cynical - he had a feeling that if Ruan didn't come round to the idea, he might just bend so far into denial that he became even more unbearable to deal with. "Give him time. We both know it's a lot to adjust to…" He paused before adding. "...but call me if it doesn't go well."

He was pleased and a little relieved when she gave him a hug, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she left, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her dress as she disappeared through the automatic doors. Bastien watched her go and wondered again if he should stay, but he dismissed it almost immediately - the last time he and Ruan had seen each other was in the interrogation room. He would do nothing but antagonise the man in this situation.

A low hissing from the sack on his bike brought him back to earth, and he realised that the overzealous traffic warden was bustling back towards him. Ramming his helmet back on, Bastien gave the tokoloshe a jab in the side, causing it to yelp angrily, and the parking attendant to stumble back a few steps in fright. Trying not to laugh, Bastien kicked the bike into life and pulled out of the loading bay, the sack growling maliciously behind him as he went.

Vuyo had yet to invest in a smartphone (claiming that what her ancient Nokia 3310 lacked in apps it made up for in indestructibility), so her location was indicated in her text message simply as Clifton. Since Clifton was vague at best, Bastien detoured via the house to dump the grumbling tokoloshe off, before driving down to the nearest coast road and carefully eyeing up the beach for any sign of the wayward Incantfier.

He found Thando first, parked up at the end of Clifton 4th beach stairs, watching the sand in amusement. Pulling up next to him, Bastien frowned at the sight of the beach below.

"...is she okay?" he asked, as he pulled his helmet off. It was not an unreasonable question - the last time they'd found Vuyo outside with a spade she'd been possessed by one of her ancestors.

"No idea," Thando shrugged. "I was waiting for you. If this is a repeat of last time, I can't take her by myself."

There was certainly something esoteric at work. The beach was pockmarked with holes laid out in a strange-looking symbol. The entire design was about the size of a squash court. Bastien sincerely hoped that neither of them were going to have to take her. The Incantifer - hunched over her freshest hole with her pink plastic child's bucket and spade - was clearly up to something. She shovelled the sand with a focus that was not characteristic of the possessed.

"Don't suppose you brought any of her herbs down from the house?" Thando asked hopefully. Bastien shook his head.

"Had to take some to Becky - that's why I took so long. There was a tokoloshe in her grandmother's hospital room."

"Seriously? Is she okay?" Thando tore his gaze away from the beach for an answer.

"They're both fine - I'll tell you about it later," Bastien promised. "We should go find out what Vu's doing before someone falls in one of those holes."

"They'd have to be pretty blind," Thando scoffed, but he led the way down the steps and onto the sand regardless. As they carefully picked their way around the spell, the intrigue deepened. Each hole was easily three feet deep, and Vuyo had left the sand carefully stacked next to each one - clearly she intended to fill them back in again.

"The plot thickens," Bastien commented, as they approached the Incantifer, who was on her hands and knees and up to her armpits as she scraped more sand out of the bottom of her current hole.

"Uh...Vu?" Thando said, clearly wary of breaking her concentration. "What are you doing?"

He side stepped as another spadeful of sand was deposited onto the pile.

"Diggin' a hole," the Incantifer stated, discarding her bright pink spade and reaching instead for a stick to measure the depth.

"...let me rephrase that," Thando tried again. "Why are you digging a hole?"

"Setting a trap," came the reply, slightly strained now that Vuyo was laying on her stomach.

"For the witch?" Bastien's concerns, which had been simmering away all day, were suddenly replaced with a quiver of excitement.

"Yup." Prodding the jelly-like sand at the bottom of her hole, Vuyo beamed and threw the stick over her shoulder. "It's a simple trap, but I think it will work. We know how she operates now - water, particularly sea water. And we know who her targets are - Shadowkind. And that's really all we need to know to set an effective trap. It only took me two hours to cook this up. Have either of you read The Hunger Games?"

A little thrown by the subject change, Bastien shook his head.

"I read the first one," Thando raised his hand. "Haven't got round to the last two."

"Right, then I'm about to spoil you. Sorry." She did not sound terribly sorry, as she rolled over and grabbed the castle-shaped plastic bucket. "In the second book the characters come up with a plan to murder the other tributes by luring them down to a beach, and electrocuting the water and the wet sand. For various reasons they don't get to pull this off in the end, but the theory is solid."

From the bucket, she plucked a dark grey pebble about the size of a flat golf ball. It was perfectly smooth save for one side where she had carved another interesting looking rune which Bastien knew he had no hope of reading, but who's purpose he understood. Vuyo often used pebbles as conduits for her magic - nobody questioned you carrying around a pocket full of stones when you were a quirky witch doctor.

"I've popped a little electrocution spell on each of these pebbles," she explained, reaching into her hole and placing one carefully in the bottom. "I'm going to bury one in each hole - the symbol will keep them contained to this area. High tide is in two and a half hours - should soak the sand nicely. We come back once it goes out again, and wait on the damp sand for her to show up."

The little wriggle of excitement had turned into a full parade, and Bastien could not help but grin. He had some concerns however.

"How powerful are these?" he asked. This would all be for naught if they accidentally killed their target - they still needed to find the missing people.

"They won't kill," Vuyo assured, getting to her feet and scrutinising the layout of the holes. "Just a nice strong tasering. I can turn up the juice depending on how powerful she is, but even at their worst they shouldn't do more than knock her out." She glanced down at their feet and pulled a face. "You two might want to wear rubber soles though - just in case."

"Okay, so just one more question," Thando raised a hand. "I doubt she's just going to show up because we ask nicely, so how do we lure her down here?"

"Easy," Vuyo's voice had become deliberately casual as she examined her surroundings critically. "We have something she wants."

Bastien's first thought was the tokoloshe, but that did not make sense - clearly she had an army of them, so losing a handful was not going to be a big setback. By his side however, Thando's spine suddenly went rigid.

"No," he said bluntly. Bastien had never heard him sound so forceful. Vuyo rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember needing your permission," she said pointedly. Over with Bastien, the penny finally dropped.

"It's too dangerous!" Thando protested.

"Life is dangerous," Vuyo pointed her stick at him. "Four days ago I was in a Zimbabwean jail. This time last week, I was apprehending four poachers armed with AK-47s. Two days before that, I had my hand in a leopard's mouth. Tell me how sitting on a beach, with two Shadowchasers as back up, so that I can tase a witch is somehow more dangerous?"

From the expression on Thando's face, his brain was busy filling in the blanks on Vuyo's adventures, so Bastien took over.

"Vuyo, we asked you here to help us, not put yourself in danger," he was not certain which side of the fence he came down on. This was the best and most proactive plan they had had since this case had started, but loyalty to his best friend compelled him to take Thando's side.

"I'm already in danger, Bastien," Vuyo huffed impatiently. "I've been walking around the city all day. There are tokoloshe everywhere. By now one of them will have reported to their mistress that there's an Incantifer in town - might as well get some use out of me."

"Don't say that!" Thando sounded angry now. "This isn't about getting use out of you - you're not a ready meal that we have to eat before the expiry runs out!"

"Well it's a good thing Incantifers have very long expiry dates." Vuyo stated, folding her arms in a pointed fashion.

"That doesn't mean you can't get hurt!" Thando's voice was getting slowly louder with each syllable. "You're immortal - not invulnerable. Do you want to end up like Rana?!"

The video footage played across Bastien's mind in graphic detail. If Vuyo wound up in her place, he would hate himself for it forever - and so would Thando.

"Rana wasn't expecting trouble," Vuyo countered. "At least, not from a sea witch and her posse of tokoloshe. She was jumped without warning. I am expecting her, and I like to think I'm more equipped to deal with her."

"How can you possibly know that?" Thando demanded. "We don't even know what she's doing with the Shadowkind - she could be killing them for all we know!"

Bastien knew that she wasn't - Rana had confirmed that much last night. It was time to come down off the fence. He took a deep breath and tried for a calm and rational tone. "It's not a bad plan, Thando-"

If looks could kill, Bastien would have just been slaughtered by his best friend. "I don't care - we are not risking her life on a plan just because it's 'not bad'!"

It was almost possible to see Vuyo bristling. "Last I checked Thando it wasn't up to you to make decisions for me."

"I'm not!"

"Doesn't sound like it!" the short woman drew herself up, in no way less formidable for the pink child's spade in her hand. "I am a grown woman and I decide when to put my life at risk. It's not up to you. Not now, and not ever!"

It was as if she'd punched him. Thando flinched, his face twisting into a combination of hurt, fear and anger. There was a flicker of regret in Vuyo's eyes, but she controlled it quickly and held her ground. Deflating, Thando stormed off across the sand.

Glancing between the two, Bastien held his tongue. Vuyo watched her boyfriend leave before picking up her stick, spade and bucket and moving onto the next hole without a word, leaving Bastien stranded between his two friends, wondering who he should talk to first.

It took Thando dropping out of sight with a yelp of pain to make the decision for him. Crossing the beach, he found his friend pulling himself upright in one of Vuyo's holes, the edge of the sand crumbled in where he had stepped on it.

"...so when did you go blind?" Bastien found himself asking as he peered down at his friend. Seeing the frown on his face, he added. "Earlier? When you said you'd have to be blind to fall down one of Vuyo's holes…?"

"Don't explain the joke, Bastien - it's not funny." Thando let out a groan of tense frustration as he made to clamber out of the hole and more sand crumbled away from the edge beneath his hands. "I am not okay with this."

"I appreciate that," Bastien finally took pity and offered a hand to pull Thando out. "But she is right - it doesn't matter if you're not okay with it. It's her choice."

"So that means I'm not allowed to worry? Or think this is a terrible plan?" His friend demanded. "She could get hurt!"

"And she knows that." It was not often that Bastien found himself in the position of having to be patient and rational with Thando - usually his friend was the most patient and rational man on the planet. "And more importantly, she's fine with that. So you just need to get over it, because it's not up to you."

It occurred to him suddenly that this conversation felt familiar, and it did not take him long to remember why, and feel like a massive heel. Not twenty four hours ago, he'd been in Thando's position, telling Becky that it would be too dangerous for her to kiss Rana. _Wow, I may be the world's biggest hypocrite,_ he thought to himself.

"How can you ask me to do that?" Thando had started to pace, his movements uncharacteristically sharp - almost panicky. "After the day we've had? After Serena? And Rana? Never mind the mess with Gelehrin, or us getting arrested and now tokoloshe popping up everywhere! You don't think that perhaps after everything that's happened, maybe we'd be mad to tempt fate by waving Vuyo around as bait?"

Bastien grabbed his arm before he could accidentally march himself into Vuyo's hole again. He tried to put himself in Thando's place. Looking back, he agreed that it had been a terrible day as far as their luck went - worse for Thando actually, when you considered he'd also managed to break his phone, his duel disk and get punched in the face by police too...would his girlfriend just be one more broken thing? One more casualty of the day along with everyone else?

"Look, I don't want her to get hurt either. And I'm not denying that it's a possibility," releasing his friend, he tried to construct some kind of argument that would make Thando see sense. "Do you think Vu is smart?"

"She's the smartest person I know." It was heartwarming to Bastien at just how fast Thando answered.

"Then don't you think she's smart enough to understand the danger herself? To weigh the odds, accept them, and take all necessary precautions? Or are you saying you know what's best for her, better than she does?"

He knew that Thando would never be capable of such arrogance, and he could see his friend's jaw clench at the implication. They both knew how grateful Vuyo was for her own life - and aware of how lucky she was to have it - and nobody would ever accuse the Incantifer of throwing that away.

"We'll be there the whole time," he promised, trying to sound reassuring. "She won't be out of our sight for a second, and if anything does go wrong, we will be right there to help."

Thando was clearly not happy - in fact Bastien was sure that he could see his teeth grinding together - but there was nothing he could do, and he knew it. Arguing the point further would only make him seem unreasonable.

"This won't end well. I can feel it," his friend predicted ominously, before he conceded with a sigh. "But you're right. I'll go say sorry."

"Thank you." It was a relief to feel the argument pass, and Bastien watched his friend walk away with his hands in his pocket and his shoulders hunched, the air of a defeated man, sheepishly looking for forgiveness. The sight both warmed him and made something hollow open up in his stomach, and it took him a moment to realise that he was lonely. An image flashed in his mind - a younger him, walking along the beach on an early evening just like this, with Thera beside him, looking for a sheltered place to drink and fool around.

Shaking himself, he turned and headed back up the beach, keen to find the best vantage points, and not think about how long ago it had been...

OOO

"Visiting hours are over - you can come back tomorrow!"

Becky had already realised that Sindi was a bit of a battleaxe, and the impression was only reinforced as she flapped her hands to shoo her out of her chair. Lihle, who was sipping unenthusiastically at a plastic cup of water, rolled her eyes as the nurse exited once more to tell off the next unsuspecting soul.

"It's only six o clock - do they expect us all to lay down and sleep until eight am?" She scoffed, setting her cup down decisively. "Hand me my phone, there's a good girl."

"...please tell me you're not ordering a stripper again?" Becky pleaded, holding the phone tight to her chest just in case. Lihle huffed.

"Don't be silly dear, of course I'm not." She held out her hand expectantly, and Becky caved to that dark firm gaze as she always did. "...I'm ordering a pizza."

"They bring the meals around in an hour, Nana," Becky reminded her, slinging her bag over her head.

"Yes, and I'm sure it will be just as terrible as the gluten free carrot soup," Lihle said, not looking up from her phone. In spite of herself, Becky felt a smile creep across her face.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Her eyes darted to the small mounds of herbs in each corner of the room, and the fresh lines of salt across the window and beneath the bed. She had taken the additional precaution of sprinkling a line across the bathroom door and placing a heavy plant pot on top of the closed toilet lid for good measure. The tokoloshe would get into this room again over her dead body.

"Don't you fret about me. I'm a tough old bird," Lihle assured her. "Now you go find my son-in-law and get him to take you home. You need a nice glass of red and a long sleep."

"Yes Nana." Becky was fairly certain that a long sleep was out of the question. Going home meant confronting the rest of her family. The glass of wine sounded appealing though.

"And don't worry about Ruan - he'll see things straight soon enough," Lihle said, pointing her phone at her like a sergeant about to lay down the law on her wayward troops. How was it that grandmother's always spoke in a way that left no room for argument? Becky wished that she had that skill, as she bowed her head obediently.

"Yes Nana."

"That's my girl," Lihle said, dismissing her with a wave before going back to her phone. "Ah delivery instructions...please pass through the window…"

Trying not to smile, Becky headed out into the ward, where a slow trickle of relatives were making their way out towards the exit. Nurses wandered back and forth, carrying notes, pushing trolleys of medicines or hospital equipment where they needed to go. It felt surreal, and even knowing that Lihle would be discharged in a day or two, it was hard to reconcile the idea of her walking Marina down the aisle in a few days surrounded by all the urgency of medical activity and the same sterile yet dusty smell that all hospitals seemed to have.

She would have to keep believing it though - just like Ruan had to believe her now.

She found him in the coffee shop, two empty paper cups in front of him, and a third one in hand. Becky was willing to bet that it was better than the watered down sludge she had been drinking earlier from the vending machine, but Ruan still looked as though he needed another three cups - preferably pumped straight into his veins. He was not even tapping on his phone - just playing whatever was on his mind out inside his head. Becky was willing to bet that there was a lot on his mind right now. She cleared her throat, and he practically jumped out of his seat.

"Sorry," she smiled sheepishly. "Visiting hours are over."

Blinking, Ruan glanced at his watch. "It's that time already?" He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, stretching out long limbs that had been sat still for too long and running a hand over his face. Becky realised that he was not sure how to talk to her now.

"Yeah." She eyed the coffee cups and cast around for another topic. "Did Marina come back?"

Mention of his fiance seemed to get Ruan's mind back on track. "Uh no, her duty manager called in sick, so she went to cover until the night manager gets in. How's Lihle?"

Becky rolled her eyes. "I left her with her phone and the wifi password."

The awkwardness seemed to dissipate as Ruan's brow fell into a frown. "She's not ordering a stripper, is she? I don't know if I can deal with that again."

The same smile that had stolen across her face with her grandmother now reappeared. "No. She's ordering a pizza."

For a long beat, nothing happened. And then Ruan laughed in the same exasperated way that everyone seemed to with Lihle.

"Alright, I can live with that," he declared, popping the lid off the takeaway cup and draining the last of the coffee. "I guess you need a lift home?"

"Please." Helpfully, Becky stacked the empty cups up and tossed them in the nearest bin before following him out. He still looked preoccupied in spite of the earlier levity, and she swallowed uncomfortably. "About earlier-"

Ruan was holding up a hand before she had even finished. "Not now, Becky. I'm really not there yet." He shook his head before stuffing his hand back into his pocket and rummaging for keys. He had not parked far away, but by the time they reached the car, the awkwardness had settled once again, and now it was Becky's turn to squirm as she sat down in the passenger seat. The radio came on as Ruan's started the car, but he quickly switched it off. Apparently he had no problems with uncomfortable silences.

Resting her head against the window, Becky wondered what her grandmother had said to him. At least that might have given her a clue how to behave. She was tempted to just leave it as he had requested, but the silence was driving her crazy. Not for the first time in her life, she wished that she could read people's minds. She tried to imagine what he must be thinking right now, but it just was not possible. Her own introduction to the world beyond the Veil was no basis for guidance - she had started already half believing based off her own experiences. Ruan only had a lifetime of clashing with the Shadowchasers and one dazed tokoloshe to go on.

She was watching the city go past in a blur when Ruan finally spoke.

"What will happen to it?"

Becky blinked over in his direction, but Ruan's eyes were focused on the road. "To what?"

"To the...tokoloshe." She could see Ruan steeling himself just to say it. Hugging herself against the seat, she shrugged.

"Not sure. We've got about seven of them locked away now. We know the sea witch summoned them. They seem to be canvassing the city for her - picking out targets."

Ruan hummed in acknowledgement, his attention still fixed on driving. Becky wondered if he was running every childhood story of tokoloshe through his head. She certainly had from the minute she had set eyes on them, but now that she had seen the video of Rana, the thoughts had taken on a more sinister tone. Was it possible that forty eight hours ago she had been lecturing them on manners and threatening their genitals with drawing pins? It felt so frivolous and she wanted to go back and slap herself.

"...no wonder there was never any evidence at the crime scenes," Ruan muttered, his voice full of sudden understanding as bits of his case suddenly fell into place. "They're all over the city?"

Guilt crept over Becky as she remembered her confrontation with Xicerine that morning. "A reliable source confirmed it to us this morning." Not pleasant, but reliable.

"So everyone who's disappeared is magical." Ruan sounded like he was trying to lay out the pages of a story in some semblance of order. "This...witch wants people with magic and she summons tokoloshe to track them down?"

"As far as we can tell, yes. And before you ask, no, we don't know why." The list of things they didn't know was starting to feel daunting again. This was not the time to have no answers.

"That wasn't what I was going to ask. I was going to ask why they were at the hospital?"

Something cold slid down Becky's spine. Wrapping her arms tighter around herself, she shrugged.

"I don't know. They might have been there for Nana. They might have been there for me." It was a possibility she had mulled over all afternoon, and it left her more uncomfortable than ever.

"Because you're a Shadowchaser?" Ruan checked, as thought the words did not sit naturally on his tongue. Becky nodded.

"Does that still bother you?" she asked bluntly.

"I don't know. I don't know how to feel about any of this." He muttered. His eyes were fixed on the road, but there was a pinch between them that betrayed his conflict.

The silence stretched on, the engine humming behind them, and the lights glancing off the corner of the block. Becky had been in car journeys like this before, and she could not help but feel as though she'd done something wrong.

"I'm sorry. This is not how I'd want anyone to find out."

He gave a 'hmm', but Becky could not tell what it was - agreement? Acknowledgement? Dismissal? She felt her nerves wind up tighter inside her.

"I know it's a lot." She could hear the awkwardness oozing out of each word, but she was powerless to make it go away. "And I know you don't want to talk about it...but is there anything I can do, or say to help?" _Give me something - anything - to work off..._

"It's not as easy as talking or asking for help." Ruan's eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror before he hit his indicator, but Becky had a feeling that he wasn't really seeing anything. He spoke slowly and intensely, as though he was thinking every word through before saying it. "It's hard to rewrite everything you've known for the last forty three years."

"I'm sorry. I know that can't be easy." She winced as she realised how lucky she had been. Looking at the whole world with new eyes after sixteen years had been complicated enough. If she had been forty three... _I would have broken._ She'd seen Awareness madness once during her training, and knew that calm, empty yet jittery psychosis would have been her fate.

"I don't want easy, Becky. I want…" he trailed off, hands tense around the steering wheel. Unbidden, her eyes darted up to his face, and she was relieved to see focus there. _No madness there._ "I don't know what I want. Just not this."

"Even if it's the truth?" He might not be denying it, but he could still reject it, and the thought sent a fresh wave of panic through her, before she reminded herself that Ruan surely wasn't the type to ignore a problem just because it suited him.

"What good is the truth to me if I can't act on it?" For the first time in the conversation, frustration began to bleed into his voice. "I can't share this with my colleagues - they'll think I'm mad. Do you have any idea what it's like for me to have all this information and know that I can never act on it?"

She reflected and realised that he was right. At least when Bastien and Thando had barged in on his crime scenes he could ignore or dismiss them as lunatics while he continued to do his own work. Now, knowing what he did, he was aware that his own work was pointless - he just wasn't equipped to fight monsters like the tokoloshe. Knowing now that he had to defer to them, must be making everything he'd ever done feel terribly useless.

"You're still capable of acting - even if you share this information. It hasn't stopped you in this case so far."

She paused as he made a self deprecating huff in the back of his throat - clearly as far as he was concerned, it had stopped them. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"What I mean is, there might be magic involved in this case. But there are still people in it. People with problems and wishes and goals, just like any other case. You don't need to know about magic to figure people out."

"What wishes and goals does a witch have?"

Now it was her turn to sigh in defeat. "...I don't know. We thought maybe she was collecting people for their magical energy but it's only a theory. The problem is we just don't know who she is. Maybe if we did we'd have a better idea of what she wants..."

 _And a better idea of why she felt the need to personally attack Rana and Serena..._

"What do you want, Becky?"

She wanted to say _a glass of red wine and a nap, like Nana told me to,_ but she knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for. So she answered honestly. "For everyone to be alive at the end of this."

There was a long silence. Becky watched the coast road pass by, the sun starting its final descent over the bay and turning everything to shades of gold.

"I wish that with every case I work," she almost missed Ruan's quiet admission. He hadn't taken his eyes off the motorway ahead, but his hands had slipped a few inches on the steering wheel, almost as if the hope weighed him down. "I just don't know where to even start with this one. We got lucky with your grandmother, but it's a big city." He shook his head in disbelief. "Tokoloshe everywhere. And nobody knows to look out for them."

"Be grateful they don't," Becky said darkly. "Can you imagine how hysterical everyone would get?"

It was pretty clear from the look on his face that he did not even want to imagine it. Instead he focused on the road again, slowing down as the motorway traffic ahead thickened abruptly. Cars were crawling along the three lanes at a snail's pace, and as Becky peered out through the windscreen, she could see flashes of blue and red up ahead.

"What the hell?" Ruan muttered, as the cars ahead shifted revealing that they were peeling slowly off into the outer lane. Just ahead of the bridge, the road had been narrowed to a single lane by a line of police cruisers, and officers stood between the vehicles, waving the traffic on with a hasty demeanor.

"Joel?" Ruan had already wound Becky's window down and was leaning into her personal space to listen as they crawled up to the nearest officer. "What's going on?"

"Hey Ruan," Joel had a nervous tension in his voice that put Becky immediately on edge. "We've got an armed jumper on the bridge. Officers are trying to talk her down."

"She's armed?" Ruan did not hesitate. Any uncertainty from the car ride was gone as he popped his seat belt and opened the door. Becky scrambled to copy him. "Hostage?"

"No - looks like an insurance policy. The bridge isn't high enough to guarantee death," Joel reported grimly. "No mystery why she's here - poor thing looks like she's been through the wars."

The sun was starting to set, and Becky had to squint to get a good look. Beyond the barricade of police cars, she could see the figure, petite, shoulders hunched, standing silhouetted on the narrow concrete wall, hair billowing around her in a dark halo. Beneath her the Swartrivier meandered lazily out into the Atlantic like a fat brown snake. Blinking, Becky's eyes adjusted to the low sunlight, and the image of the frail pink and blue dress and the lash marks up thin legs hit her like a hard punch in the gut.

It was Fatima.

"Oh my God," she could not tear her eyes away, and she had to grip the car door to stop herself from collapsing. She had never been so horrified in her life. "Ruan I know her! She was at Nyanga last night!"

Both men stared at her. She felt every second that they absorbed and tried to understand her words drag on into eternity. Her hands were shaking, and she suddenly felt like she could not breathe.

"You know her?" Ruan checked. He at least could grasp the significance of Nyanga. She nodded, feeling her movements become jerky as her body failed to respond fast enough to the racing in her head.

"Her name is Fatima. Marko forced her and a load of girls into prostitution. She helped us find him." She was not certain if what she was saying made any sense - details were spilling out of her mouth in a panic. "She's frightened - let me talk to her."

Now Ruan was professional, eyeing up her shaking hands and wild eyes critically. "This is serious, Becky. Have you had training for this sort of thing?"

"To hell with my training! Let me talk to her!" She had not had training for this as it happened, but she did not care. She had already rounded the front of Ruan's car, trying to stare him down, but her eyes kept flicking back to that solitary figure standing on the wall, terrified that if they kept talking she would be too late. "Please Ruan. I know why she's here. Let me talk to her. Please."

She must have sounded mad, but she did not care. She did not care if she had to beg. She could not sit back and let the police try to talk her down when she already knew deep in her heart that it would not work. At least she might have a chance if she could just get there…

Ruan did not look convinced. "Joel, who's on lead?"

"Minnie," Joel nodded. "She was on her way back to the station when we got the call. I'll go get her."

He hurried off, leaving Becky to be evaluated by her uncle.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" he asked. It was the most serious she had seen him - even more than earlier when they had argued in the hospital. She jerked her head into a nod. It felt like a lie.

"Okay." Ruan did not sound convinced, but he seemed to realise that she was not going to budge. "The priority is to get the gun off her and coax her down from the wall. Listen to her. Don't trivialise or dismiss what she's feeling - normalize and validate it. And for Gods sake, don't promise her it's all going to be okay."

Becky nodded, her eyes still darting to the wall. _Please don't move. Just stay there…_

"Ruan," a stocky woman in riding leathers was weaving between the cars at a brisk trot.

"Hey Min - this is Becky. She's a Shadowchaser and she knows the jumper. She thinks she can talk her down."

Becky could feel the older woman appraising her with a curious look, but she was not paying attention. She only saw Fatima, perched precariously on that ledge like a bird about to take flight.

"You're welcome to try. The crisis intervention team are still five minutes out," Minnie said. "But stalling her isn't going to work for much longer. I think she's psyching herself up. She's responsive and unharmed, but she won't talk to us or engage properly. She's not threatened anyone yet, but nobody wants to get too close while she's packing."

Becky shook her head. She knew engaging her wouldn't work. "She's not a threat to any of you. But she's a trafficking victim, so try and keep the men out of sight." She swiftly unlocked her phone and handed it to Ruan. "Bastien's in there. Call him." She had no plan beyond get Fatima off the wall. Right now that was all she needed. To her surprise, Ruan took it and squeezed her arm before she could move away.

"For Gods sake, don't get shot," he begged. It was so abruptly sincere and she was not expecting it.

"I won't."

"Breathe in," he squeezed her arm, emphasising the order, and she pulled along deep breath into her lungs. The adrenalin that had pounded through her for the last minute seemed to settle down to a simmer inside her.

"Okay," Ruan released her, and took a respectful step back as Minnie quietly ordered all units to fall back. As Becky crossed the barricade of police cars, she caught the eye of the officer who had been talking to Fatima. Relief crossed the other woman's face and she nodded before falling back towards the blockade, leaving Becky alone inside the cordon.

Everything seemed sharper here. She could hear the air whistling past her ears and the rush of water beneath her feet. Every breath felt jagged in her throat as she carefully approached the figure on the wall. As she got closer, sure enough, there in her right hand was the handgun - small in her white fingers. The stray thought drifted through her head that it didn't need to be big.

She paused, half way across no-mans land. Something about the sight of the weapon put fresh fear in her, and she did not want to scare her.

"Fatima?" The girl did not look at her, but Becky knew she had heard her. Her throat was working hard at a lump, and Becky felt her heart break at the sight - tears were flowing freely down her face, and the hunched stance that she had adopted against the wind shook with each quiet sob. "Fatima, it's Becky. Remember?"

The tiniest jerk of Fatima's head responded.

"I want to make sure you're okay," each step was careful. She was acutely certain that any sharp moves might frighten her into shooting. "Can I come closer?"

Another jerk - this time from side to side. "Stay back!" Her hands squeezed around the handle of the gun. "Please. Just stay away from me!"

"Okay." Becky rooted her feet to the floor, her heart beating like a prayer inside her. _Please don't shoot. Please don't shoot…_ But Fatima's grip slackened marginally, and she felt like she could breathe again. "Okay, I'm staying right here."

The urge to bolt forward the last ten feet across the concrete was overwhelming, but she beat it back. Now that she was closer, Becky could see the dark stains splashed across the soft colours of her dress.

"Who's blood is that?" She asked. "Did someone hurt you?"

Fatima shook her head. "Marko's." There was a hollowness to her voice, deeper than anything she had had the night before, and it sent a cold chill down Becky's spine.

"Why are you up there?" she felt herself asking. Anything to keep her talking. To keep her from pulling that trigger.

Thin shoulders shrugged. "Seemed like a good place..." Her gaze drifted down below, where the mouth of the river eased out into the Atlantic. "Thought I could just...fall in. Go peacefully in my home."

She swallowed hard, more tears sliding down her face. "Stupid. I can't do it. It won't let me."

Becky felt herself flinch as she understood. "Your cloak."

Fatima nodded. "Every time I lean forward...it's like it's got hold of me...pulling me back." Her arms wrapped around her body, nails digging deeply into her shoulders. "It's holding on to me forever."

Her nails were torn, but they were still sharp enough to peel skin back as she pulled against the invisible grip. Becky could see the fresh blood welling up.

"It's not forever," she said. "We're still unearthing all of Marko's hideouts. Your cloak could still be there."

But the tears were flowing freely now, and when Fatima spoke her voice shook. "You heard him. It was worthless to him, just like me. He didn't keep it. He sold it. Or threw it away. It could be anywhere on the planet - maybe with someone who doesn't even know what it is. We'll never find it."

She squeezed her eyes closed again, bitterness and self loathing creeping over her like a clenching fist. "I'm so stupid. I thought if he was gone - if he was dead - I'd be free. But I'm not. And I never will be. I'm stuck here forever."

"You don't know that," the argument felt feeble on Becky's lips, but she did not know what else to say. Fatima did not seem to listen to her.

"I didn't mean to come up here," The words slipped and slid out of her like water flooding out of a broken dam. "I didn't mean to get us caught. We just wanted to play...see the land."

"...who's we?" Becky asked, nervously. Fatima seemed to pause, her throat working hard around grief.

"Nadiya. My little sister…" her fingers trembled around the gun. "We weren't supposed to stay more than an hour, but I didn't listen. Stupid…"

A fresh sob sent a shudder through her whole body, and her nails dug angrily back into her arm sending a fresh well of blood spilling over her skin. The urge to run over and seize her was rising for control again, but Becky forced herself to think of Ruan's words. _Listen to her._

"They grabbed us and took us to Marko. I begged him. Please, don't touch my sister. She's only eight. And he said he wouldn't. He said ' _I promise, I won't touch your sister. Just as long as you do what I tell you_ '."

Her lips pressed together between words. "So I did. I did everything he asked. I put Nadiya in danger...I'd do anything he asked to keep her from any more harm."

Tears of loathing welled up again. "Stupid! I didn't see it."

"See what?"

"What he meant," sobs broke up her words, hot and bitter. "And then one night while I was away working...Veno and a bunch of his friends went to her. The whole building could hear her screaming."

She pressed her free hand against her mouth, in a futile attempt to hold back her pain. Becky felt her stomach turn as she remembered Marko's hulking giant of a brother, and tried to picture someone tinier than Fatima. A shudder of horror went through her - no wonder she had screamed.

"I screamed at Marko." Fatima continued. "I tried to hit him. He'd promised me…" She broke off weakly. "He just grabbed my hair and said he had kept his promise. He'd not touched her." She shrugged helplessly. "He'd never said Veno wouldn't touch her. I'm such an idiot. I should have realised...should have made him promise..."

Somewhere, Becky found her voice. "What he did to you both was wrong. So wrong." In that moment she wished that Marko had been a full demon - she would have given anything to march into the Abyss right now and tear him apart again and again. But she forced herself to focus on Ruan's words. _Validate her feelings._

"Nadi couldn't bear it." Fatima did not even seem to register that Becky had said anything. "She hurt all the time. She couldn't sleep. She screamed when people came near her. Then one day she…" She pressed her hand over her mouth again, and this time the cry seeped into her voice. "She went down to the tracks and...stepped out in front of a train."

Becky's heart had broken a long time ago for Fatima, so it took all her strength not to collapse as she felt it break again. "I'm so sorry…"

"She died because I hadn't been able to keep her safe." Fatima's statement was a stamp of conviction. "That was when I realised. Marko always wins. There was no going home for me. This was my punishment for killing my sister."

She hiccoughed again. "And then...last night when you guys came, I thought maybe, just maybe you could get rid of him. You'd make Marko go away, and I'd be able to leave. Go home…"

Guilt crashed down on Becky in waves.

"But I can't. He took my cloak from me. He took my sister from me. And now he's taken my home away forever. Even when he's dead, he still wins."

Glancing down at the water again, Fatima looked sadly at the surf rushing out into the Atlantic. Becky followed her gaze. The bay spread out around them like long arms. In the distance, the sun was starting to set, sending embers of light glittering across the water like tiny yellow diamonds. Becky wondered if somewhere out there, Fatima's family were still waiting for her.

"I'm sorry. But I'm tired of him winning."

Her eyes squeezed closed against the ocean before her, and in a breath, the muzzle was tucked under her chin.

Becky's heart lurched.

"Fatima, don't-!"

The gunshot split across the bridge. Blood sprayed over the concrete. And on the bridge, the shot ripped through Fatima. For a second she teetered on the edge, her body arched and twisting against the force of the bullet. And then gravity won and pulled her over the wall, the mystical hold of her cloak snapped in an instant.

Scrambling, Becky threw herself against the wall, but she was too late. Fatima was already out of her reach, her tiny body crashing heavily against the waves as the ocean finally swallowed its missing child again.

Half sprawled across the wall, Becky stared at the white foam as it slowly turned pink. She could not tear her eyes off it. If she just kept looking, maybe she would be okay. Maybe it wouldn't be real. Her heart was thudding hard and slow against the concrete. Were there people moving around her? Shouting? She could not tell.

A strong set of hands settled on her shoulders.

"Come on," Ruan's voice was low, sad, but steady.

She did not move, her gaze not breaking from the water.

"Becky, come on."

She drew a breath and felt her resolve waver.

"She's gone. You can't help her now."

Something trembled in her chest, and she felt her eyes growing hot. "She..."

"I know. Come on." Ruan was pulling now, and she found she did not have the strength to fight him. She breathed again, and the trembling seemed to reach up her throat and grip her voice. A gasp escaped her, followed by another. One of Ruan's arms wrapped around her shoulder, as the gasps crumbled into full sobs. She did not see the police scrambling to obey orders, or hear Ruan say something reassuring to Minnie. Instead she was acutely aware of her ears ringing with the crack of the gunshot, and tiny flecks of blood drying on her forehead and cheek.

Only when Ruan sat her carefully down in the passenger seat of his car again, did she realise that she could still hear the waves.

And somewhere beneath, a faint note of crushing, all consuming grief.

OOO


End file.
